The laws of history are as absolute as the laws of physics, and if the probabilities of error are greater, it is only because history does not deal with as many humans as physics does atoms, so that individual variations count for more. — Isaac Asimov, Foundation and Empire From a certain point onward there is no longer any turning back. That is the point that must be reached. — Franz Kafka, The Trial INTRODUCTION How ought we characterise the exercise of power in our societies? Are they societies that confine and discipline our bodies, or ones that control us in potentially subtler ways? This article adopts the framework for analysis used by twentieth century French philosopher Gilles Deleuze in his short but defining essay on the subject, 'Postscript on Societies of Control'.[1] It firstly considers the background to the concept of control, then provides a definition of the concept, and, finally, asks whether our society is one of control. It argues that Deleuze is correct to say control has replaced discipline as the primary mechanism of power in our era. ORTHODOXY In order to address the question of whether societies of control are increasingly replacing disciplinary societies, it is imperative first to understand what disciplinary societies are. Discipline is a concept developed most powerfully by Deleuze's contemporary, Michel Foucault.[2] Foucault's philosophy primarily concerns the technologies of power operating within society and their effect on human autonomy. He pursues this study via a genealogical approach; that is, he employs a historical critique to interrogate the workings of powers at play in modern society. In this way—despite his vocal opposition to Hegel—Foucault is very much Hegelian in his belief that close examination of historical parallels and events can clarify and deepen our understanding of present-day technologies of power and how they shape or restrict our autonomy.[3] Through his historical work, which spans various societal and public institutions, Foucault identifies a fundamental change in the mechanisms of power exercised by the state in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. He articulates this shift as a transition away from sovereign power to technologies of discipline. This notion of discipline and disciplinary society is perhaps best exemplified by Foucault's enquiry into the French penal system in his Discipline and Punish.[4] The book opens with vivid depictions of public torture and execution in pre-eighteenth century France. Foucault explains that the physicality and the public nature of punishment in the French criminal system up until then was an essential aspect of the exercise of sovereign power. Yet, while brutal public spectacle instilled fear and awe, it also provided public fora for communities to revolt against the perceived injustices of the sovereign. By moderating power through the benevolent reform of the criminal, by the discipline of the docile body, and by the fragmentation of public space into discrete, segregated institutions, state power could be obscured and, thus, maintained. These forces are the hallmarks of a disciplinary society. REVISION In his 'Postscript', Deleuze—building on the work of Foucault—argues that the twentieth century has marked a shift from disciplinary societies to societies of control. A precise definition of control and societies of control has proven to be elusive;[5] it is therefore helpful to consider both the antecedents and critiques of Deleuze's analysis in addition to his work itself.[6] Antecedents Deleuze has attributed the concept of control to William Burroughs.[7] Burroughs, in turn, provides not a definition of control, but brief observations as to its exercise; in truth, his analogies are of only limited assistance when read in the context of mechanisms of power within society at large.[8] Nevertheless, there are two salient points to note. Firstly, Burroughs establishes that when one maintains total or absolute power over the actions of another, they can more accurately be said to be using them rather than controlling them. Secondly, Burroughs shows that control requires concessions and illusions: controllers must make concessions to the controlled in order to maintain the illusion of choice and free agreement, obscuring their true motives in order to avoid revolt. In contrast to Burroughs, Félix Guattari provides an analogy of control that usefully supports the conception Deleuze comes to advance: the gated home and community accessed and exited via electronic cards.[9] This has elements of discipline, as movement being granted or denied constitutes a form of confinement. But, as Deleuze argues, it also represents a departure from the disciplinary society, as 'what counts is not the barrier but the computer that tracks each person's position […] and effects a universal modulation'.[10] Among his identified influences, Deleuze contends that Foucault sees as 'our immediate future' societies of control.[11] Deleuze particularly emphasises that Foucault's work on discipline is historical (focused on the exercise of power in the nineteenth century); we should, therefore, not be so naive as to assume Foucault would not have recognised the possibility of further historical change. Indeed, Deleuze says that Foucault concludes his Discipline and Punish with the explicit recognition that a prison as a physical space is becoming less important in the exercise of power. This, Deleuze suggests, presages a fuller analysis of a new sort of power.[12] Deleuze makes these forceful arguments as to Foucault's understanding of power in response to a critique by Paul Virilio that Foucault did not understand the nature of modern power. Ironically, that critique is also an important precursor to Deleuze's analysis. Virilio argues that the patrolling of the highway—and not the prison—exemplifies the exercise of police power. Deleuze concurs, adding that modern authorities possess predictive technologies that anticipate the movement of subjects and consequently have less need for confining subjects. Deleuzian societies of control That predictive power is a hallmark of control. In his 'Postscript', Deleuze fleshes out this position polemically. It must be noted that Deleuze never attributes any concrete definition to the notion of control itself; he is primarily concerned with how a society of control operates. This section will similarly consider the features and modes of operation that constitute a Deleuzian society of control. Much like with the disciplinary society, the technologies of power that govern a society of control cannot be boiled down to one single technology or mechanism. Instead, there are targeted and multi-faceted ways in which societies of control manage the lives of their subjects. Most fundamentally, there are no enclosures or strictly delineated confined spaces (like, for instance, the disciplinary society's schools, barracks, and factories, which are all subject to clear separation from one another). Instead, there is a single modulation, which allows for the coexistence and connection of various states (the corporation, the education system, and the army are all connected, one flowing into the other). This brings us to the next point: exploring how these spaces or states are connected. The disciplinary society operates on the basis that its subjects start over when they move from one space to another. Though it does recognise analogies between the spaces (the discipline of the school may be similar to the discipline of the army), the spaces and norms are ultimately distinct from each other, with one having little bearing on the other. Societies of control, on the other hand, are predicated on connection between spaces, such that 'one is never finished with anything.'[13] These connections encourage a culture of constant progression or improvement. The question this cultural attitude begs (to what ends is progression and improvement directed?) admits no answer. There are also differences in the conceptualisation and treatment of the person. The disciplinary society takes the individual and subjugates her through discipline so that she will conform to the mass. No such subjugation is necessary in societies of control. The individual is not viewed as a member of a mass, but as a data point, a market audience, a sample. This allows for targeted control to take shape, where compliance is not forced upon the individual (as with discipline) but facilitated. There are no overarching aims or requirements outlined by societies of control (no 'watchwords'). The society is governed merely by way of codes that function as 'passwords'; these can allow or deny the individual access to certain information or amenities. The control of access is presumably based on the conduct of the individual and is a means of exercising control over individuals' choices: the individual self-disciplines because of incentives and disincentives encoded within herself as a data-point. This, in turn, suggests (perhaps even necessitates) a degree of technological surveillance that goes beyond that of the comparatively simple model of the Benthamic Panopticon Foucault famously employs. Additionally, there are no clear hierarchies, if there are any at all. Unlike in disciplinary societies, power is not centralised or in the hands of a single 'owner' or state. Rather, control is exercised by a corporation—invested with its own personhood—comprising stockholders. The make-up of this corporation is transitory and fundamentally transformable. All of these technologies—singular modulation across singular space, an ethos of the relentless pursuit of progress, the 'dividualisation' or 'data-fication' of the individual, the facilitation of compliance, the use of codes as passwords, technological surveillance, and the absence of clear hierarchies of power—together create a society of control. Critiques Here we will explore three critiques of Deleuze's thesis: the privatisation of public space, the role of surveillance in control, and the telos of control. Privatisation Michael Hardt deals at length with the Deleuzian conception of societies of control, both in his joint work with Antonio Negri on Empire, as well as more specifically, in a piece titled 'The Global Society of Control.' Here, Hardt contends that there is an incompleteness to Deleuze's work on control, and proceeds to elaborate on the operation of societies of control to fill in these purported gaps. He does so by situating these societies within his and Negri's broader framework of Empire. The study is multifaceted, but here only one aspect of the critique will be considered: the erasure of the dialectic between public and private. 'There is no more outside,' insists Hardt.[14] This is to say, there are no longer any meaningful or permanent divisions between private and public spaces. Nikolas Rose, similarly, argues that inherently public spaces (like public parks, libraries, and playgrounds) are being abandoned in favour of privatised and privately secured places (like shopping malls and arts centres) for acceptable members of the public.[15] Those who have no legitimate, consumerised reason to occupy these new privatised 'public' spaces are denied access to them. Populations and classes of people deemed 'dangerous' or 'undesirable' are excluded from the private-public spaces and, so, from society itself. Deleuze touches on this idea of exclusion as well, in saying that 'three quarters of humanity', who are too poor for debt (as in, those who cannot be managed through the mechanisms of 'control', because these mechanisms rely on monetary and consumerist incentives or 'passwords') and too numerous of confinement (which makes it logistically difficult to subject them to technologies of 'discipline' that rely on confinement) will have to face exclusion to shanty towns and ghettos.[16] From this, we can take two points. Firstly, that neither the societies of control, nor disciplinary societies are or have ever been able to exercise control or discipline over every individual; when they are unable to, they simply exclude these potentially unpredictable and uncontrollable threats to order. Secondly, there is the implicit acknowledgment that technologies of control and discipline can coexist; to conceive of discipline and control as dichotomous notions would be inaccurate.[17] In fact, the question posed by this essay itself may fall victim to a false dichotomy between Foucauldian discipline and Deleuzian control. These mechanisms of power are not necessarily mutually exclusive. We should, therefore, be wary to adopt a view that control represents a natural or irreversible progression (from discipline) in the exercise of power (as Hardt and Negri may be suggesting in saying that control is an intensification of discipline),[18] because they are contingent historical realities. That is what Foucault's work—and Deleuze's analysis of it—suggested of discipline, and it is no less true in the case of control. Thus, we can qualify our thesis by saying that while societies of control are increasingly replacing those of discipline, technologies of discipline (and even of sovereignty) are still employed in certain contexts. Surveillance Surveillance is implicit within Deleuze's conception of control (in the understanding of the individual as a mere data point, not the member of a mass), but Oscar Gandy articulates this technology more explicitly.[19] Such an emphasis on surveillance is problematised, however, by Rose, who posits that societies of control are not predicated on surveillance but on the instilling of self-discipline and self-regulation in their subjects. That rather misses the mark, because, as we have seen, societies of control employ a range of technologies to exercise power. Nothing suggests an emphasis on self-discipline ought to exclude the technology of surveillance, which is implicit in the incentivisation of labour and use of passwords. Telos But Rose's critique of surveillance does helpfully inform another point of discussion: the odd ideas prioritised within societies of control. Deleuze makes brilliant and incisive concluding remarks about this telos of self-improvement and self-actualisation. But what are the motivations behind this ethos of motivation? That is the question Deleuze poses in his conclusion, and it is a question that largely remains unanswered. In some ways, one can only hazard a guess at the mechanisms at work here. That is rather the point. Societies of control have evolved such that their technologies of power and their telos can be more obscure than that of disciplinary societies. VALIDATION With definitions—or, rather, understandings—of both disciplinary societies and societies of control to hand, this essay considers whether it can be said that the latter are replacing the former. The institutions of the disciplinary society Foucault identifies in his body of work—the home, the school, the prison, the barracks, the factory—are all still extant. However, as we have noted above, there need be no 'either/or' as between societies of discipline and of control; the question is more accurately one of degree and we must identify whether a general movement may be occurring. Again, that movement need not be total or irreversible. Such a movement seems to be taking place all around us. For example, remote working and learning, which Deleuze identified as increasing in the 1980's and which has skyrocketed in light of the coronavirus pandemic, has weakened substantially the disciplinary segregation of physical space.[20] At the same time, it has strengthened the all-encroaching productivity ethos of societies of control by placing work or study (itself little more than a preparatory step towards work) within the walls of the private family home. Whilst coronavirus may have accelerated a shift towards societies of control, this trend runs much deeper still. Below, we shall seek to validate the shift Deleuze identifies by employing and analysing four impressionistic vignettes. Vignette A In April 2021, Chinese state television broadcast an exposé of intolerable working conditions faced by food delivery drivers—long hours, meagre pay, algorithms that encourage dangerous driving and heavily fine lateness, and harassment from customers who have full and 'live' access to drivers' locations and contact details. China's couriers are estimated to contribute to close to 1% of the country's economic activity, but the undercover government official earned just £4.52 over a 12-hour shift.[21] The courier works in no strictly delineated or confined space, but everywhere, openly. He is the subject of constant surveillance. Customers have his precise location, his 'ETA', the corporation's promised delivery slot, and his personal mobile phone number at their fingertips. The threat of an angry call or harsh review might appear in those circumstances to operate rather like a panopticon unconfined by space, enforcing conformity. But that is only a minor part of this story; it is secondary to the algorithmic surveillance and control in which both the courier and the customer are merely variables. Drivers will be set timescales in which to complete a delivery determined by the average speed at which drivers have previously made that journey or a similar journey. If they beat that timeframe, they may be rewarded with bonus pay. If they fail, their pay will be docked. Both processes—the incentivisation of speed and disincentivisation of slowness—are automated. The algorithm does not care how the driver gets from A to B, only that he does so quickly and does not damage the customer's goods in the process. So, drivers will travel recklessly in order to beat the clock to boost their meagre pay, but this only shortens the average time of journey completion, making pay boosts harder to achieve and pay docks more likely and contributing to an insane culture of paranoia and uncertainty. Compliance with the requirements of speed in this system is facilitated, not forced. In paying the less perfect worker less and the more perfect worker more, the corporation is nudging the courier to an (ultimately ephemeral) standard of compliance. But it need take no further punishing or corrective action: it knows that the courier, impacted by these forces, will correct himself. The password operating here is that of a courier 'score' that determines the level of pay afforded for work done. This is ripe terrain to consider Deleuze's challenge as to whether the unions will be able to resist forces of control upon the breakdown of the workplace. China, where organised labour is met with fear and hostility, shows that the communist party will intervene by challenging monopolies and exposing low pay. They may moderate the technology of power, but they will not extinguish it; the work is too economically important for that. In the UK, there have been increased efforts by unions to protect insecure, 'gig-economy' labourers and they have had some success.[22] But here too the overall system of algorithmic control is not removed, but mollified. Vignette B A London-based junior employee at Goldman Sachs, one of the largest investment banks in the world, has complained that staff face 18-hour shifts that mean they are earning less than the UK living wage and regularly take sick leave due to burnout. In 2015, US employee Sarvshreshth Gupta, who had been working 100-hour weeks, took his own life.[23] The company has a £50,000 entry-level base salary.[24] The company's average employee takes home about £260,000 per year.[25] It is at first blush surprising that employees at Goldman Sachs could be said to be subjects of control by twenty-first century technologies of power, and even more surprising to suggest that their situation is comparable to that of couriers in China. But this is precisely the sort of topsy-turviness that is to be expected from (and ultimately serves to legitimate) societies of control, where we all 'work hard'. The impetus to 'get ahead' is central to the ethos of self-improvement and motivation instilled by societies of control. That is perhaps nowhere more evident than amongst the new, highly-remunerated, highly-overworked, 'meritocratic', professional or upper class of managers, bankers, and lawyers.[26] Previously, elite status was maintained through generations by inheritance. That method of status-maintenance has now mostly been displaced by investments in 'human capital'. This can be achieved directly—through funding private schooling, tuition, and even work placements paid for by the volunteer—or indirectly, through covering children's rent and paying for their goods. The crucial factor in bringing about this shift has been the rise of 'meritocracy', which purports that success (i.e. the rate of remuneration for one's work) is a result and marker of an individual's inherent drive and talent but which in reality allows 'a relatively tiny segment of the population […] to transmit advantage from generation to generation' because elite parents stack the odds in favour of their children's advancement from birth.[27] This is the society of control in action: demanding, inequitable and possessing an obscured, democratically-papered-over telos, drive and skill directed at productive activities. But the elite class are not spared from the brutalities of this system, as the above vignette suggests. Since societies are increasingly meritocratic (in the sense that the most skilled and driven will generally be remunerated the most, not in the sense that the system promotes a level playing field) young elite professionals still have to work incredibly hard to 'climb the ladder'. Even if they reach seemingly secure positions of employment, they will still want to continue to reap the rewards of their labour, still need to work intensively to secure funds to invest in their children's human capital, and still be motivated by the overwhelming and corrupting cultural ideal of self-improvement and motivation. The name of Goldman Sachs' personnel team, 'Human Capital Management', is telling. It has been noted, '[l]ives are things that people have; capital has rates of return.'[28] Vignette C About one in every hundred adults in Britain has been trained as a 'mental health first aider' by the MHFA.[29] They advertise their 'proactive' services thus: 'for every £1 spent by employers on mental health interventions, they get back £5 in reduced absence [.] and staff turnover.'[30] The second of five listed responsibilities for first-aiders is to communicate concerns about 'anyone in your workplace, for example to an appropriate manager.'[31] Separately, the UK government is providing '£1 million for innovative student mental health projects' that offer targeted support to those identified statistically as being at highest risk of mental ill-health.[32] Deleuze argued the hospital was being replaced by 'neighbourhood clinics, hospices, and day care'.[33] Similarly, the above vignette suggests that the power that would in a disciplinary society be exercised by the asylum has, in our societies of control, been exercised dispersedly by employers, with the aim being to improve profit-margins and productivity rates. The actual mental wellbeing of employees—or, rather, of human capital—is a means to that end that may give rise to some incidental good. But even these incidental goods are monetised, such as when companies compete on their 'work-life balance' or their inclusion of private therapy in 'healthcare plans' so as to attract the most human capital. Under these conditions, the public healthcare officials sectioning or supporting a member of the public who risks harm to herself or others are reduced in their significance. In their place, the anxious employer preempts possible harm to the corporation by proactively addressing and preventing harm to the employee. Similarly, 'mental health teams' in schools and universities are encouraged by the government to anticipate, based on a series of data-sets, those students who are 'more at risk' and provide targeted interventions to safeguard their health (and, by extension, their productivity). Deleuze says that 'the socio-technological study of the mechanisms of control […] would have to be categorical'. By this it is meant that we must look to each institution of power—the healthcare system, the corporate system, the educational system—and describe the power being exercised there. The above vignette shows that that has become an artificial mode of analysis in this era of control. The healthcare system has been radically dispersed, with detection, prevention, and mitigation (recovery being ancillary) of illness now increasingly undertaken by the corporation and its agents, including crucially the employee herself qua employee or human capital. She will contact her mental health first aider colleague or her employer (though any difference between the two seems doubtful). She will purchase products—self-help books, meditation apps, tickets to motivational talks—with a view to her greater productivity and, hence, 'employability'. In fact, the monetary value she attributes (through her valuable spare time as much as through her pay-power) to her own productivity and employability may reduce the corporate system's nascent role in facilitating compliance; her self-improvement becomes her guiding, internalised ethos as a consumer-employee and she will discipline herself, knowing this self-improvement will be coded and rewarded. Thus, technologies of power in the modern, mental health context cannot be identified within a healthcare system, a corporate system or an education system, nor even within what might be dubbed a 'consumer system'; there is no single system of operation of which we can speak. This conceptual challenge itself demonstrates the ultimate annihilation of the institutions Deleuze anticipates in societies of control. Vignette D In May 2021, the UK government proposed halving state funding for university courses they do not regard as 'strategic priorities', such as music, drama, visual arts, and archaeology. It is estimated that such courses would run at a deficit of £2,700 per enrolled student, and many courses may therefore have to close if the plans go ahead. The government says the decision is 'designed to target taxpayers' money towards the subjects which support the skills this country needs to build back better'.[34] They also say universities should "focus [.] upon subjects which deliver strong graduate employment outcomes in areas of economic and societal importance".[35] Deleuze foretold the 'effect on the school of perpetual training, and the corresponding abandonment of all university research'.[36] Alarming an idea as this may be, the above vignette should at least discourage us from dismissing it altogether. The government's proposal betrays a deeply production-oriented approach to higher education that sees knowledge and learning as purely instrumental to the development of concrete 'skills' to be directed at the most economically valuable production of goods and services and, correspondingly, the strongest employment outcomes. The UK education system no longer possesses its own watchwords (save, perhaps, 'instilling British Values'). Instead, all activity is directed at the future employment prospects of the student. The privatisation of schools (through academisation in England) has allowed for corporate sponsorship that makes this close instrumentalism perfectly plain: the corporation's senior managers become senior managers of underperforming schools and they are expected to foster students' 'aspirations'. Here, the corporate and educational systems are blended together, the former funding the latter, the latter supplying labour to the former. The physical spaces in which learning occurs can at times barely be distinct from the corporate, whether a company name is printed across the school entrance ('Bridge Academy in partnership with UBS') or affixed to laptops donated to school students studying remotely. CONCLUSION There is a great deal of truth to Deleuze's thesis that societies of control are replacing disciplinary societies. We have noted the destruction of swathes of confined and discrete spaces; the intermixing of institutions; the pervasive power of technology to tweak and modulate behaviour through coding; and the pointless but universal ethos of motivation. As Deleuze ably demonstrates, analyses of discipline, confinement, hierarchy, and masses can only take us so far in understanding these forces. More necessary in our quest to uncover the telos we are being made to serve is a socio-technological study of control and its methods. However, this essay has also sought to demonstrate the limits of Deleuze's proposed methodology. For a 'categorical' socio-technological study of control becomes more elusive the more deeply a society succumbs to control. Schools, prisons, barracks, hospitals, factories, offices, and homes are increasingly blended (and so less discrete) environments. The office educates, entertains, protects, and diagnoses its employees. The school is a business, its pupils are prospective employees. University is a career stage. Beds, dining tables, and lounges are workstations. For those on 'home detention' during coronavirus in the United States or under TPIMs (Terrorism Prevention and Investigation Measures) in the United Kingdom, these same spaces are prison cells. The gradual annihilation of the disciplines as physical and conceptual spaces—which Deleuze foresaw—also renders obsolete our existing methods of understanding power. We are in need of new tools to respond to these developments; the study of categories must be replaced with the study of networks and systems. We must explore with curiosity and thoroughness the complex web of relations operating through spaces and lives. BIBLIOGRAPHY Adams R, 'English universities must prove "commitment" to free speech for bailouts' The Guardian (16 July 2020) accessed 6 May 2021 Bakare L and Adams R, 'Plans for 50% funding cuts to arts subjects at universities "catastrophic' The Guardian (6 May 2021) accessed 6 May 2021 Burroughs WS, 'The Limits of Control' in Grauerholz J and Silverberg I (eds), Word Virus: The William S Burroughs Reader (4th edn, Fourth Estate 2010) Collini S, 'Snakes and Ladders' London Review of Books (London, 1 April 2021) 15 Deleuze G, 'Foucault: Lecture 17' (University of Paris, 25 March 1986) accessed 9 May 2021 — — 'Foucault: Lecture 18' (University of Paris, 8 April 1986) accessed 9 May 2021 — — 'Foucault: Lecture 19' (University of Paris, 15 April 1986) accessed 9 May 2021 — — 'Postscript on Societies of Control' (1992) 59 October 3 Department for Education and others, '£1 million for innovative student mental health projects' UK Government (5 March 2020) accessed 11 May 2021 Ewald F, The Birth of Solidarity: The History of the French Welfare State (Cooper M ed, Johnson TS tr, Duke University Press 2020) Feng E, 'For China's Overburdened Delivery Drivers, The Customer—And App—Is Always Right' NPR (Beijing, 1 December 2020) accessed 7 May 2021 Foster M, 'Guess How Much Goldman's Average Salary Is (GS)' Investopedia (25 June 2019) accessed 10 May 2021 Foucault M, The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures at the Collège de France 1978–79 (Senellart M ed, Burchell G tr, Palgrave Macmillan 2008) — — Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (Sheridan A tr, 2nd edn, Vintage Books 1995) Hardt M, 'The Global Society of Control' (1998) 20(3) Discourse 139 — — and Negri A, Empire (Harvard University Press 2001) Makortoff K, 'Goldman Sachs junior banker speaks out over "18-hour shifts and low pay' The Guardian (London, 24 March 2021) accessed 7 May 2021 MHFA, 'Being a Mental Health First Aider: Your Guide to the Role' accessed 10 May 2021. — — 'Workplace Info Pack' accessed 10 May 2021. Morar N, Nail T and Smith DW (eds), Between Deleuze and Foucault (Edinburgh University Press 2016) Muldoon J, 'Foucault's Forgotten Hegelianism' (2014) 21 Parrhesia 102 Nealon J, Foucault Beyond Foucault: Power and Its Intensifications since 1984 (Stanford University Press 2008) Negri A, Interview with Gilles Deleuze: 'Control and Becoming' (Joughin M tr, Spring 1990) Rice-Oxley M, 'UK training record number of mental health first aiders' The Guardian (2 September 2019) accessed 11 May 2021 Roffe J, Gilles Deleuze's Empiricism and Subjectivity: A Critical Introduction and Guide (Edinburgh University Press 2016) Rose N, 'Government and Control' (2000) 40(2) The British Journal of Criminology 321–339 Wallin J, 'Four Propositions on the Limits of Control' (2013) 39(1) Visual Arts Research 6–8 Wise JM, 'Mapping the Culture of Control: Seeing through The Truman Show' (2002) 3(1) Television & New Media 29–47 Yang Y, 'China's food delivery groups slammed after undercover TV exposé' Financial Times (London, 29 April 2021) accessed 11 May 2021 — — 'How China's delivery apps are putting riders at risk' Financial Times (London, 26 January 2021) accessed 11 May 2021 [1] Gilles Deleuze, 'Postscript on Societies of Control' (1992) 59 October 3–7. [2] On their complex relationship before and after Foucault's death, see François Dosse, 'Deleuze and Foucault: A Philosophical Friendship' in Nikolae Morar, Thomas Nail and Daniel W Smith (eds), Between Deleuze and Foucault (Edinburgh University Press 2016). [3] James Muldoon, 'Foucault's Forgotten Hegelianism' (2014) 21 Parrhesia 102. [4] Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison (Alan Sheridan tr, 2nd edn, Vintage Books 1995) [5] Michael Hardt, 'The Global Society of Control' (1998) 20(3) Discourse 139. [6] Deleuze cites these authors in his 'Postscript': (n 1). [7] Gilles Deleuze, 'Foucault: Lecture 19' (University of Paris, 15 April 1986). [8] Burroughs himself concedes his analogy of the life-boat is a 'primitive' one: William S Burroughs, 'The Limits of Control' in James Grauerholz and Ira Silverberg (eds), Word Virus: The William S Burroughs Reader (4th edn, Fourth Estate 2010). [9] 'Postscript' (n 1) 7. [10] ibid. [11] 'Postscript' (n 1) 4. [12] Foucault refers to it as 'biopower'. Biopower is not something that this essay will address, but we can observe that it may be that the Foucauldian notion of biopower and the Deleuzian notion of control are broadly similar or even the same: for a fuller discussion of that relationship, see Thomas Nail, 'Biopower and Control' in Between Deleuze and Foucault (n 2). [13] 'Postscript' (n 1) 5. [14] Hardt (n 5) 140. [15] Nikolas Rose, 'Government and Control' (2000) 40(2) The British Journal of Criminology 331. [16] 'Postscript' (n 1) 7. [17] JM Wise, 'Mapping the Culture of Control: Seeing through The Truman Show' (2002) 3(1) Television & New Media 29. [18] Nail, 'Biopower and Control'. [19] Wise, 'Culture of Control' 33. [20] Deleuze, 'Foucault: Lecture 18'. [21] Yuan Yang, 'China's food delivery groups slammed after undercover TV exposé' Financial Times (London, 29 April 2021). [22] For instance, many will now be recognised as 'workers' rather than as 'self-employed', with greater protections: Uber v Aslam [2021] UKSC 5. [23] Kalyeena Makortoff, 'Goldman Sachs junior banker speaks out over "18-hour shifts and low pay' The Guardian (London, 24 March 2021). [24] ibid. [25] Michael Foster, 'Guess How Much Goldman's Average Salary Is (GS)' Investopedia (25 June 2019). [26] Stefan Collini, 'Snakes and Ladders' London Review of Books (London, 1 April 2021) 15. [27] ibid 22. [28] ibid. [29] Mark Rice-Oxley, 'UK training record number of mental health first aiders' The Guardian (2 September 2019). [30]MHFA, 'Being a Mental Health First Aider: Your Guide to the Role'. [31] MHFA, 'Workplace Info Pack'. [32] Department for Education and others, '£1 million for innovative student mental health projects' UK Government (5 March 2020). [33] 'Postscript' (n 1) 4. [34] Lanre Bakare and Richard Adams, 'Plans for 50% funding cuts to arts subjects at universities "catastrophic' The Guardian (6 May 2021). [35] Richard Adams, 'English universities must prove "commitment" to free speech for bailouts' The Guardian (16 July 2020). [36] 'Postscript' (n 1) 7.
Transcript of an oral history interview with R. William Pemberton, conducted by Sarah Yahm on 24 April 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Richard William Pemberton attended Norwich University as a member of the Norwich University Class of 1949, although he did not graduate with his class; much of his interview focuses on Pemberton's childhood and family history as well as his experiences in the Civil Air Patrol during World War II. His later career as a telephone engineer is also discussed. Particular attention is paid to his memories of the Grenadiers student band at a time when its membership consisted mainly of World War II veterans attending Norwich University in the 1940s. ; 1 R. William Pemberton, NU 1949, Oral History Interview April 24, 2015 Interviewed by Sarah Yahm R. WILLIAM PEMBERTON: (inaudible) [00:00:01] SARAH YAHM: I think our levels are perfect, actually. RWP: Did I forget something? Good voice? SY: Good voice. So, could you introduce yourself for the tape? RWP: OK, I am R. William Pemberton, and a, was a student at Norwich in class of 1949. Now I'm being interviewed by a young lady named Sarah, and we're going to talk about my life, I guess, we're going to talk about it. SY: We are, we're going to talk about your life. So, where were you born? RWP: I was born in Greenport, Long Island, New York, 20th day of June, 1926. SY: And what'd your parents do? RWP: Well, my parents? That's a very interesting story. My mother, Gladys Kruger, came to Greenport as a schoolteacher, she was born up in – a pure German parentage -- up near [Lockport?], New York, on Lake Ontario. And she came to Greenport as a schoolteacher, for art, teaching art. And then met my Dad. My Dad was the oldest of 13 children, and he had hardly any education at all because he had to go to work right away to help support the family. So, this was right during the Depression era. And because, back in those days -- when women, teachers weren't married, and they didn't have babies and so on, so -- they both went to work for my uncle, on a truck farm in Orient, Long Island, which was seven miles east of where we lived, and then -- we were there until I was five years old. And -- SY: What's your first memory? The first thing that you remember, what is it? 2 RWP: First thing I remember. I don't remember being any, a child, naturally. In Greenport, I remember being on the farm down there, I can remember that, when they rebuilt the road, and realigned the road and made it concrete to Orient Point, to the Point. And that would have been, probably in 1928, '29. SY: Nineteen twenty-eight. RWP: Nineteen twenty-eight, yes. SY: Twenty-nine, OK. RWP: Yeah, and, like I said, we were there until 1931, when I was old enough to go to Kindergarten, so then we moved back to the village of Greenport. But I have one, one story I'd like to tell, I don't know whether (laughter) -- because that was during Prohibition times. And the farmhouse that we had was right near the Long Island Sound. And, this one night, my dad got my mother and I up, and there was a lot of shooting going on and so on, and had -- rum boat pulling out of the village, and. But they caught this one, the Artemis, right up in back of our farm. They shot the boat up quite a bit, then the, the crews had thrown off part of their load, and couple of men got wounded and so on and so forth. And after it had all quieted down, I -- never heard the conversation, but -- my father said to my mother, "You know," he says, "Glad, I'm going to go up and" -- he was quite a swimmer -- and he says, "I'm going to go up and we're going to find some of that booze." And by God. He went up in that rowboat, and that whole farmhouse attic was full of [Haig & Haig's Pinch?] bottle scotch, and Goiden Wedding whiskey (laughter). I can remember that we had a lot of parties then. And, he carried that into the village, and -- I'll continue with this, OK? -- and of course, back in those days we had no radio, we had no TV and things like that, we didn't even have a vehicle, a car. And lo 3 and behold, I got into music quite a bit, and there was a place in the village that sold records. So this one Christmas, Dad shows up with a Philco, that's a radio that's pull the front open and it had the place for the records and that, he bartered whiskey for that. SY: And what music did he play -- RWP: -- but that, at that -- SY: -- on that record player? RWP: But prior to that, that was another thing, too. Prior to that, we always, we sat and talked a lot after dinner. And that was, that was one of -- as far as parents, I couldn't have asked for better parents in my life. SY: What'd you talk about? RWP: We talked -- everything. I mean, you know, we'd discuss everything, you know what I'm saying. And I can only remember one time that my mother was crying because we didn't have any money. We had a dollar left in the whole house, you've got to know my dad. "Well," he said -- it was a Sunday, and it was a rainy day -- he said, "We've got a dollar," he says. "Why don't we go to the movies this afternoon?" So here we go, we put on our raingear and we head down to the village, we're walking down through. And wouldn't you know, I'm walking ahead of him. And here's a dollar bill, floating down in the gutter. So I picked it up and handed it to my father, and there we had two dollars. So we had a dollar, we to the movies, and we had another dollar left over. But that was the only time that I ever remember that there was ever anything said or done about the fact we had nothing. SY: So you don't remember growing up with anxiety about it, even though your parents must have been frightened? 4 RWP: No. No. Well, they never showed it to me, and they never argued, never. There was never any coarse words ever, and that was the wonderful thing. And I learned an awful lot. And my mother was, like I said, a very learned person. And my dad, of course, had no education. And she taught us to read a lot, and we read an awful lot. And my father, for what education he had, was the most knowledgeable person I've ever talked to. He was, he was really great. And oh, it was, it was a wonderful upbringing, you know. SY: Did you play outside a lot, on this farm? RWP: Oh, yes. I was outside all the time. I was in the water all the time. I swam like, you know, an eel, good lord's sakes. And, and -- from the Depression, I will never eat another rabbit, we ate too many rabbits, you know. And at that time I was allergic to seafood, and I couldn't eat seafood, which was very prevalent at the place there, but I'm out of that now. SY: Did you catch the rabbits? Did your dad catch the rabbits? RWP: Dad shot them. They worked on the farm, we always had fresh vegetables, and so on, from there. SY: So you always had food to eat? RWP: Just regular food. Well, it was regular food, it was, you know, nothing special. Just potatoes, the meat of the rabbit or whatever, chicken. Of course vegetables, they have all kinds of vegetables. You had the cauliflower, you had the onions, you had the beans, you had the cucumbers, and all that sort of stuff. And with the meal, desserts (inaudible) [00:06:43]. The folks smoked an awful lot. Everybody smoked back in those days. I mean, I never did, but whatever. So. But it was good. And of course, I went through the school system there, in the village, and I played a lot of sports. And that gets to the point, 5 working towards how I came to come here. I played a lot of sports then, when I turned 17 in June of 1943, my dad gave me permission to enlist in the Air Force. And so with his permission, I got on the train, rode 100 miles into New York City, enlisted in the Air Corps, Army Air Corps Aviation Cadet Program, and was accepted, physically and mentally, and they recommended that I join the Civil Air Patrol unit, which, when I got back home, I did, it was out of [Patchogue?], Long Island, which is in the middle of the island, we call it McArthur Field, and I flew quite a few missions as an observer, looking for German submarines, from Patchogue, or McArthur Field, up into, up to the Cape, and then back down again, it was about a two-hour flight. SY: Let's back up a second, let's rewind a little bit. So do you remember Pearl Harbor? RWP: Yes, I do, very much so. SY: Where were you, what were you thinking? RWP: I was, -- we had a daybed in the living room of the house that we rented, and I remember, we had the radio on at that time. And that's when I heard about Pearl Harbor. And actually, the very interesting part about the war, too, was the fact that my dad was too old to go, he was, just too young for World War I, just a little bit too old for World War II. But he had six brothers. His youngest brother was a year older than I am. So there were seven of us that were in service, plus three brothers-in-law. So there was a total of ten out of one family, and only one got shot up pretty bad he was in the Marines. And he got shot up pretty bad in [Guadalcanal?], out in the Pacific. But he, he made it. SY: But only one? RWP: Only 1 out of 10. 6 SY: So do you remember, you were a young boy, you might have been a bit of a hothead, were you like eager to get into the fight? Or -- RWP: Yeah, well definitely. I always wanted to fly. You know, I was always, always, you know, I built model airplanes and all that. As a matter of fact, I got a whole bunch of them out here I'm trying to get rid of, -- SY: Had you seen an airplane before, at that point? RWP: Yeah. Well, that's another thing. I don't know where the money came from, I -- when we moved back to the village, I was over five. Probably seven or eight years old. A barnstormer came in, an old biplane, open cockpit, and landed in the field up there, and somehow Dad -- I don't know where Dad got the money, but -- we, he and I, went up in that plane, and I was hooked right from that day on. I mean, you know, . And I flew a few other times, in private aircraft, before I went in the Civil Air Patrol. SY: So you knew, you knew that's what you wanted to do? RWP: Oh yes, definitely. SY: From when you were a little boy? RWP: No. No, I always wanted to fly and I wanted, and all that. I, you know, a lot of guys went with the Naval Air arm, I wanted to go with the Army air, you know -- SY: Why did you want to go with the Army and not the Navy -- RWP: I don't really know, you know? I, I think about it and I laugh because I had to land on a carrier. I thought, you know, I might have trouble land-- but no, I never had trouble with that. There was, you know, short field landings and takeoff, I always was good at that, but. I don't know, most of the guys went in the, in the Army. Matter of fact, whole backfield of me, I've got a football picture, the whole backfield went, the whole team 7 went and was in service. It was great; we only lost one guy out of the team. He was killed in Normandy. SY: So it was expected that you would go in? RWP: Yeah. I mean, it was expected -- SY: And that you would volunteer -- RWP: Yeah. SY: -- not wait to be drafted? RWP: Yeah, oh, I volunteered, no, I wouldn't be drafted. SY: So OK, so tell me about these flights from the island up to the Cape and back, what were you thinking about on those flights, what were they like? RWP: Well, it was -- in a way, it was stupid. We were looking for German submarines. You don't see a German submarine during the day. There were German submarines all over the place up there, at night, and they came up to charge their batteries, they'd come up at night, or they'd come up on a foggy day and you couldn't see them. But we flew and we looked, and I saw a lot of whales and so on and so forth, but never saw any submarines. SY: Was it still cool, though? Did you still enjoy it? RWP: Oh sure, I enjoyed it, it was good, lord. Saying, here I am, about 17 years old, (laughter) it was all -- SY: Seventeen years old? RWP: -- private aircraft. SY: You're in your own plane, you're looking at whales? RWP: Looking for whal-- well, we'd see whales, yeah, you'd see whales and stuff. (laughter) No German submarines. 8 SY: Did you each, at a certain point, were you like, "We're not going to see the submarines," or did you still hope to see one, or think you'd see one? RWP: Always hoped, you always hoped. It was, there was a chance. You know, there was always chance. Of course you had, we had -- in the village, we had shipyards, and they were making wooden minesweepers, and they had another section that they made the metal landing craft that they men, the LSTs. So that was a, a spot that could have gotten shot up a little bit. And then right across the way, in the Sound, we had New London, Connecticut, which -- you had the submarine base over there. So there was, it was very possible that you could have seen. But not during the day, oh yes. SY: Do you remember what it was like? Because you were, because you were still in the US during the war, do you remember -- were you living on base, or were you living -- RWP: No, I commuted. I had, and I had special gas privileges so I could go with the car, Dad's car. We had the car by that time. He went to work in the shipyards. He did the bright work on the, well, the varnish work and stuff, on the wooden boats. And he, we had to get gas rationed, of course. So I would drive the 50 miles to -- no, I wasn't on base, no. SY: You commuted to the war. (laughter) Did your mother go to work in the factories then, was she one of the Rosie the Riveters? RWP: Well -- my mother? No, (inaudible) [00:12:50]. But by that time she had, they, both parents worked all the time anyway. We never had anything. By that time, she had gone into the library. And she was, she was to become the librarian. And she had to go, she went back to Syracuse in the summer, the early summers, before I went in service, to get certification, and I used to go up and stay with my grandmother up in Occott, New York, 9 which is right on Lake Ontario. Oh no, we had, you know, it was the usual thing there, they had the war bond drives, and they had the victory gardens, and so on. SY: Do you remember rationing, did you have a ration card? Rationing? RWP: Oh, rationing. Yes, we were rationed for everything, yeah. Good lord, yes. Even the cigarettes-- of course I used to make the cigarettes for the folks, they had a little machine. You put the stuff in there, and you roll it, and so on and so forth. And you had to correct it, you know, so it wasn't too tight and all that sort of stuff, for them. But they all smoked pretty hard, Dad smoked a pipe a lot. SY: But you never smoked, why not? RWP: Oh no no, I never did while I was in service, and I never did until I got out, and I never started smoking until I went to work for [New York Tel?]. Then I started with cigars, and then I smoked pipe, I quit about 20 years ago. SY: Well, it certainly didn't -- RWP: My wife, and my wife -- SY: -- cut your life short. RWP: -- and I quit about the same time. You know, no problem, we just said, "We're going to stop," so we stopped. (inaudible) [00:14:15] a lot of people have problems and all that, is what I'm saying. SY: Yeah. But you didn't. Any other, do you remember -- I don't know. Blackout curtains, and things like that? RWP: Oh, yeah. We had blackout curtains. And of course we had the, the lights on the cars, to dim the (inaudible) [00:14:31] all that sort of stuff. We had a -- antiaircraft battery, stationed right there in Greenport, they had, up on the Sound, they had guns in 10 placements places, and of course there was [Fort Terry?] off the end of Long Island, which is now, was a hoof-and-mouth-disease lab, but at that time it was a fort and had heavy guns there, and quite a few people, who were in the artillery, that came from Northfield. And there were guys stationed there that I knew. SY: Interesting. RWP: But no, it was, it was an interesting time. I, I don't know what else I can talk about, about it, we've -- SY: What music were you listening to, and what were you doing for fun? RWP: Well, it was big band stuff, mostly. Of course, when I was a kid before the war, at that time, I'd jump on the dawn train and go down to New York City and listen, you know, you could go to a movie down there, and before the movie -- or, after the movie -- they'd have a big band, one of the big bands would come up out there, and they'd play, and then I'd go on the train, got on the train, come on home again at night. SY: When your dad traded whiskey for the record player, what records did you buy? RWP: I, well, the record -- probably got, still, a lot of them -- well, most of it was [Artie Shaw?], Benny Goodman. Tommy Dorsey and Jimmy Dorsey, and on the big, all the big bands and stuff. SY: And is that still your favorite music? RWP: And then it was on the radio, too, they had the -- and Martin Block were on. Make Believe Ballroom. And he played for an hour at night, he played, all the big band stuff. And then they had, at that time, there were two magazines out, the Metronome and the Down Beat, came out every month and told who was in the bands and all that stuff. It was interesting. 11 SY: And did you mention before that you played music? RWP: Yes. SY: What did you play? RWP: Well, I played saxophone. I had a big band in high school. And, and after the war, of course, came back here and, and then from here, when I went down home, one of the guys from town had, was a saxophone player, and he had gotten wounded pretty badly in the Pacific, and so as a rehab situation, we put together a six- or seven-piece band for him, and we played up until '64, I guess, played real steady. SY: Really? What steady gigs? RWP: It was good stuff. SY: All over the island? RWP: Yes, all over the island, all over the end of the island, worked mostly nights. Played country clubs, dinners, and weddings. We played American and Polish, had a lot of Polish people down there. That was another thing about my village, it was very diversified. And I have to laugh to tell you -- to talk about diversification in Burlington and so, it's not diversification. When I grew up down there, we had every nationality in that village you could think of, I was -- SY: So who was there, in the village? RWP: -- I was at their house, they were at my house, you know, we, you know, I ate all the different foods. SY: So your mom was German, there were a lot of Polish folks in the village. Who else was there? What food were you eating when you were at their houses? What do you remember? 12 RWP: Well, that, people we had, we had Swedish, we had a lot of Irish, German. We had every national-- no Chinese, we didn't have any Chinese. They had the two brick yards in the area. SY: Any Jews? RWP: Hmm? SY: Any Jews? RWP: Yes, we had a very good Jewish community. Very good community. And then -- mostly merchants, of course. No, it was, it was a very, a great place to grow up, really. SY: And who had the best food? RWP: It's a good question. There was a restaurant in town called Mitchell's, and we used to end up there quite a bit. And -- always had good hamburgers, and all that, and beer. And during the war, it was great. When I went home a couple of times the (inaudible) [00:18:21] back with people and guys, and, guys and gals, and. A lot, and the summers were very interesting, you had a lot of, you know, city people would come out and so on. The boats and things. SY: What were they like? RWP: Nice. A lot of fun. SY: What were the city people like? And did you guys, was it, did you interact with them? RWP: Yeah, somewhat. I wasn't, I didn't chase women, I could have chased the girls, but there were quite a few girls around there with me. They had a Jersey colony, they were in what they called Sandy Beach, they had all the cottages there. They, they were all nice people, you know, they had nice people. I had the Hamptons of the district, I don't know if you knew the Hamptons and all that, Montauk and so on. 13 SY: Oh boy. RWP: Yeah. And. (laughter) But no, they were nice people. And the whole village were nice people. SY: Do you remember -- RWP: I could tell one story about, about the colored people. I don't know what you're going to do with this, but. SY: Well, we're going to -- RWP: We had a gal named Josephine. She was colored. She was ahead of me in high school, a couple years. She married a fellow named -- we called him Beano. And he ended up, after the war, as our mailman. And Josephine was in the organizations, and everything (inaudible) [00:19:47]. In '66 we moved back here, in that summer, Beano and Josephine show up with their little RV and the kids, they stayed around here, and that following morning, we were sitting here at the kitchen table, having breakfast and everything, I said, "Josephine, how's the village doing these days?" She says, "Bill," she says, "you know, if it wasn't for those damn niggers, it would be fine." And I don't -- SY: But she herself was black -- RWP: -- know what you might call it, black. The reasoning was this. Coloreds that I knew and grew up with were real old colored people, they were very proud. They knew enough. We had an, an area, a time there when they couldn't get people to work on the farms. They'd bring the, the coloreds came up from the South, and they had their colored, you know, they had their camps that they stayed in. And every year, a certain number of them would stay on welfare. And the poor people -- I mean, I saw it when I went into the service -- 14 SY: Do you want to get some water? RWP: No, maybe in a minute. They, they got freedom and they couldn't handle it. And consequently, they, you know, it was, they got to be bad, it's bad right now, they tell me, down there. But that's what she meant. She was one of the proud, you know, the proud type that was there before. SY: Interesting. So let's go back to the end of the war. Do you remember the day the war ended? RWP: Which one? SY: World War II. RWP: Of course I wasn't in service, and I went to Camp Dix first, and. Before I went down to -- Biloxi on the troop train, my work, for a couple of weeks, with a German prisoner. That German prisoner was there -- SY: Wait, wait. So you're, you're flying up and down, that's for the Army -- RWP: That was before, Army, yeah. SY: OK. And then -- RWP: Right, I reported to the Air Force, but I reported to Fort Dix. And then from Fort Dix I went, troop train, to Biloxi, Mississippi, for basic, basic training. Went through basic, did more testing and all that stuff, qualified for fighter pilot, and you asked me about the end of the war. Well, OK. So we went into training, [first line?], so on and so forth, that came to an end and about the time it ended, the war in Germany was over. So that relieved all of these pilots, bombardiers and navigators, to be used wherever they needed. And we never did go to -- we got wings and stuff, but we never went to, through into transition as to what we're going to fly, end up flying. So I never flew a fighter. 15 SY: So did you think, for a while, you were going to go to the Pacific? RWP: No, well. The guys came back from Europe, what they needed they took to the Pacific and so on, they had, you know, they had a lot of guys that had the experience, and they took them. So another guy and I, Teddy Sutherland, ran a, they send us to Scott Field, Illinois, we ran a mess hall there. And then the war in Japan was over. So there wasn't any, you know, they ask if you want to stay in, no. I'd had enough. I didn't, you know, I could see that it wasn't going to be what I really wanted to do -- SY: Why not? RWP: I don't know. Because it's, I really wasn't the (inaudible) [00:23:25], I was a maverick anyway. So. SY: You didn't want to be told what to do? RWP: I went by the rules but I wasn't, I was, you know, anyway. I had a lot of, I was quite a guy. But I liked to fly, loved to fly. Anyway. So I got out, and. SY: What about those, you said there were German prisoners of war? RWP: Yeah. SY: Where, where? RWP: Down -- oh, yeah. Oh, they were all over the place. They had them in Maine, they had them over in New York, they had them down at the camp, Fort Dix, working on the warehouses. SY: Did you have any interactions with them? Did you speak German? Your mother did. RWP: I spoke to them, they couldn't, no. They, very little, you know, English, they couldn't. Very little German I knew. They weren't very friendly, I mean. They were, but that was just for a couple of weeks, and then we, I was gone. So I got out of service, I didn't know 16 what, we are getting to the point now. We've still got to go back to high school, you know. I played quite a bit of sports, OK? So it got down to the last, last baseball game of the season, and I'm going to graduate from high school, and I'm going to go in the Air Force. And at the last baseball game, and I was supposed, I knew I was supposed to be in school, I didn't go to school in the morning. I (inaudible) [00:24:42] at noon, and I went in to get dressed in the afternoon, right before the game, and the coach called me over, he, "Billy," he goes, "you can't dress." I said, "What do you mean, I can't dress." He says, "You didn't go to school this morning." I said, "So? But you need me." He says, "Yeah, we need you, but the rules say you can't play." And this is not me at all. I got mad. I went in, got my uniform, and I threw it on his desk. I says, "I quit." OK, that's Friday. Monday morning came over the -- thing in the room, to the teacher, that Bill Pemberton report to the coach's office. I went down, it was my father, who worked at the school. It was the coach. The coach says, "Bill," he says, "I hate to tell you this, but that little thing you pulled Friday afternoon cost you a full four-year scholarship at Ithaca." SY: No. RWP: Yeah. SY: How did it? Really? RWP: Yeah. SY: You didn't know you had the scholarship? RWP: No, I didn't have any ideas. I mean, I didn't care. I was, I was, wanted to go off, go flying anyway. So anyway, after the war, I came home, I didn't know what I was going to do, Mom wanted me to go to New York City, to school. I didn't want to go to college in the city; I'm not a city guy. And I, one of the instructors I'd had in the Army, he went 17 to North Carolina, work of the Scotland Flying Service, and he wanted me to come down there and go crop-dusting with him, I said, I might go do that. Then I got a letter from Norwich. Would you want to come up there and play football for us? I said to my mother, "Where the hell's Vermont, and what is Norwich?" (laughter) So anyway, I did show, and I did, I said, I saw your flyer, then they. I went back to school down there for a month, and then brushed up on some of my math, which was not that great. And then next I reported up here, and I started school here and -- SY: As a cadet, or as a civilian? RWP: No, no. I was civilian. We, anybody that, we had World War II, had experience. And so that's how I came here, I came here in January of '46. And at that time, the feeling was very negative between the village and Norwich. Very negative. SY: Why? RWP: And I have to think. And I have to say that the group, the people that I came in with -- nobody talked about the war anyway. I mean, they never did. Three guys were in my room, two, three of us, and all three pilots, nobody ever talked about who was where, and wherever. SY: Why were things hostile between the town and the college? RWP: Because -- I hate to say this, but I, I think that, you know, they, they always figured that the people, this was a -- Vermont is Vermont. And back in those days, we were, you know, you were, it was really rugged people that lived there. Not very much education. And the people that came here, and got educated, and went on, they felt, well, they didn't like it because they were, they thought they were better. And I guess they had that 18 attitude, that they were, they felt they were better than them and they really weren't. I mean, I -- SY: It wasn't because the cadets were rabble-rousing? RWP: No no, not that much. No, they weren't downtown that much anyway. So as, like I said, I worked all over the place. There, I was, there used to be a Firestone store down, down across the way, [Nobby Knees?] is down there now, I worked as a lowly saw mill or wherever, Cumberland Farms is out, further outside of town there. I worked up at the airport, worked there. I was a, matter of fact, I've got a picture over there someplace, a lifeguard. The first lifeguard that they had at the pool, in '46. Myself, and another guy named Frank, from Norwich. That's, I've got a picture of that over there somewhere. SY: What were you saying about the guys in your room? You said you didn't talk about the war, and then I think you were about to -- RWP: Didn't talk about the war at all. SY: -- to go somewhere with that. RWP: Matter of fact, one of the guys, the other guy, my bud, Buschor, was in my class. Bud Baschor and Bob Cole. Bob was a Navy pilot, and Bud was Army, big. Four-engine guy. SY: That's the picture of you as a lifeguard? RWP: That was me when I was at Norwich, anyway, that one, there. (inaudible) [00:29:32] SY: Look at you, that dapper young man. RWP: That was. SY: And you're lifeguarding. In those little short-shorts. 19 RWP: Oh, yeah. I still do. (laughter) I still do. I still do, by golly. And of course that was high school there, too, but anyway. This was my uncle. He was in the Marines and got shot up during, in Okinawa, Guadalcanal. SY: Did he survive? RWP: He, he survived, yeah. He just, matter of fact, he just, he just died, just a few months ago. SY: Just a few months ago. RWP: Yeah, he was 92. SY: Wow. There's a lot of longevity in your family. RWP: Yeah, very much so. Not to have made it, of course, I was home on one leave. SY: OK. So you're at Norwich, you're working in town, you're playing football -- RWP: Yeah, I'm going to school. Going to school. SY: -- You're going to school, and what was it like for you? How, did you like it? RWP: Oh, I loved it, I loved it. But it didn't love me. And the fact was that I had trouble with the higher math. And I had, and I did my two years, and by that time I was married and we had a daughter, Jo-Anne, who was born in Montpelier. SY: How did you meet your wife? RWP: I'll tell you a story. (laughter) I was working at the airport up here, Barre/Montpelier Airport. And one of the guys that came in there was a fellow from town, I'm not going to mention names on it, and he was taking flying lessons, and so on. And he says, "Well, what are you doing for excitement?" And I said, "Nothing," I says, "I'm working, and I'm going to college." He says, "Do you, would you like to go out with me sometime on a double date?" I said, "I guess so." So I said, "You set it up," so he did. And we went out on a double date, he set me up with a girl named Doris Gokie, from up on Main Street, I 20 didn't really care for Doris too well. And he, at that time, was going with my wife, Winona. So at night -- of course, at that time, the corner store, down there, was open at night. So I'd walk down, get a cup of coffee, and she'd walk down to get a cup of coffee. And i started walking her home. So it got to be a thing after a while. Roger's a nice guy. Anyway, but. That's another story too. We were both at Scott Field. I didn't -- of course, he says, he said, "Well, I was going to radio school at Scott Field." I said, "Well, I was at Scott Field, anyway." He said, "I was going with this girl in [O'Fallon?], Illinois. I said, oh, is that right? He says, "Yeah, I got her picture." "Oh, I says, yeah, her name was" -- I forget what it was now -- I was going with the same girl. (laughter) Didn't know it. SY: You guys. RWP: She was also high school. It was, it was platonic. It wasn't any big deal, no, no. But I didn't -- that little redhead. Isn't that so. Anyways, so. So it came to pass that Winona and I did get married. I was still working at the airport. And at that time, what I would do, I, they'd drop me off down at the, in Montpelier, and I'd hitchhike home from there. It's, you know, hitchhike. So this older couple picked me up one night, and we're driving through, I'm in the backseat of the car. The guy says, "You know Roger Sears?" And I, I'd mentioned that name, OK. I says, "Yeah, I know him well." "God," he says, "terrible what happened to him." I says, "Well, what happened to him?" He says, "some guy stole his girlfriend." I said, "Oh, is that right." (laughter) I wasn't about to say, "Me." SY: Yeah. They'd throw you out of that car. RWP: Dump me right on the road somewhere. SY: Exactly. That's hilarious. 21 RWP: But no, it was -- I loved Northfield, I loved the people; it just did remind me so much of home. But the, the main thing is, I think, and I had two brother-in-laws that never, never went to school. And they -- I wonder what word to use, but I can't think of it now -- they always felt that they were inferior, but they were not, you know. My dad's the same way. He never felt that way, though, because he, like I said, you could talk to him about anything in Eden, and these guys were the same way. They were really workers. They just, an inferiority complex, is what they had. SY: OK. So you were, were you an engineering major? RWP: I was mechanical, supposedly. SY: So though the math was hard. RWP: Yeah. And of course, like I said, I (inaudible) [00:33:58] not going home, then when I went home, and I worked, you know, I started work or what. SY: So how did you end up leaving Norwich? RWP: I didn't, I couldn't pass. I -- calculus and stuff, I could not see. And then -- SY: You didn't want to switch majors? RWP: No, I couldn't, back in those days, if I remember, I'm trying to remember. There wasn't items to switch to. That's when I went back down there, and I -- because I figured it'd be more employment down there -- and a friend of my father's worked for New York Tel, and he said that they were hiring. So I went into New York City, and I interviewed, the man says very quietly, he says, "You know, Mr. Pemberton, I can't hire you." I says, "What do you mean, you can't hire me." He says, "You're overqualified." I says, "Oh, my." He says, "You had two years of college," I says, "Look. I just got out of the service, I'm married, I got a daughter. All I know about the telephone company is, they 22 drive green trucks." I says, "I want a job." He says, "All right, if you're so smart, I'll start you out at a dollar an hour." I said, "Fine." And I went seven years, I learned the business, and then I was, of course I was in management. I didn't know it, but I was in the management pool. And one in engineering. And I, they, and -- this is what I like about this compared to Norwich -- Norwich is a hell of a good school, don't get me wrong, but what I had to do, I worked at what I did and earned my education as an engineer. And I did what I did, you know. And I did, and I proved it. And I never, I always loved every bit of it. It was, and it was recognized by the honor society, you know, the National Honor Society, because of being an engineer. But I did better by going there, and doing that, than I had if I'd finished here. SY: You learned, you're a person -- RWP: You see what I'm saying? I worked right at it, I learned, you know, I learned the whole job. I worked the seven years, knew the business, then I, and applied myself to it. SY: So did you ever end up getting a degree? Getting the college degree? RWP: No, no. SY: No? But you didn't need it because you knew how to do it? RWP: Didn't need it. I know, I did, I did it, and I had my titles and everything else. And then in '66, the, I did, I mean, it's surprising, what I did. I even surprised myself. I never brought it home, that was one of those things, I never discussed it with my wife, with the family, or anyone else. Pressure never bothered me, I just went at it, but I always took care of it. In '66, I was very disenchanted, became disenchanted with Bell. SY: Why? 23 RWP: Because the fact was, number one. Our growth, on the island, was dropping down. They had, what they had done, had centralized the engineering, put us in Patchogue, which is the middle of the island -- in my district, I had the Hamptons, and so on, which we will, we can discuss if you want to discuss -- and it meant, and I had to commute 100 miles a day, 50 miles to work. Then to get a company car and go all the way to Montauk Point, or Southampton, or something like that. And then they started to, they started with their college hiring program. Where they hired these new guys right out of college, put them in second- or third-line jobs, and. They didn't know the business, and all they worried about was the bottom line, which is fine, but you're there to provide service. You're there, and that's what I did for 50 years, provide service. And -- intimidation came in, and stuff like that, which we'd never had before, Bell was a, a fun place to work. SY: Intimidation? Who was intimidating who? RWP: The, the management people, you know, were intimidating the working people. You know, you make my name bad if you don't do a good job, and I get a bad name out of it, you're not going to get your raise, you're not going to get anything. What the heck is this, I've never heard of this before. So anyway. So that's what happened. So in '66, I contacted -- one of the guys in the band was, [Walt Henry?], he played guitar. And he, he lived up the street here, I of course, I had an apartment over in my, you know, up there. We went to school together. He became [Dufresne and Henry Engineering?], out of Springfield, Vermont, hell of a nice guy. Very good friends with General Todd, I know General Todd real well, too. And he, I told him, I was looking for work up here. And of course, he said, "I don't have any use for telephone engineer on my -- but," he says, "Gardener Hopwood does, do you remember him?" I says, "Yes." Gardener started here. 24 I knew him, and I knew his wife, and then quit here and went, and he finished at UVM. He and his dad bought up a lot of small telephone companies. They put them all together, and they sold it all to Continental Telephone. And that's when I happened to call Gardener. He had just made the sale, and he was looking for a plant engineer. He says, "Can you come up," I says, "Yes, I can." So I came up, and we rode all over, all the properties and everything else, and he hired me. I was the first management person to ever quit the Bell System. SY: Really? RWP: Yes. SY: And was your wife, your wife wanted to come back home? RWP: Not really. SY: Really, she didn't want to? RWP: No. She didn't -- well, she didn't care. I mean, you know? But it was the best thing that ever happened, to have take her down there. I mean, she met a lot of really nice people and stuff like that, she's -- not that, you know, she was a country girl, but she still -- and we were country people, even down there, but it was, it was a different life. 18 years' difference, you know, and she did well here. Did well. SY: And were your parents still alive? RWP: They were still alive, yes. That was the sad part of it, was I had to leave the folks down there, and we had adjacent properties. And, but, you know, and stuff like that. But they saw the kids and all the grandkids. So I came up with Continental Telephone, and I built an empire. And it got to the point where I still worked right out of the house here, and this, I still had to thank Norwich for all of this, you know? But you know, you've seen 25 how I happened to get here. I mean, if I'd gone to Ithaca, who knows what would have happened, I have no idea. No idea. Because Rick, he -- my son, Rick, was in Vietnam, and he said, "Dad, why didn't you stay in the Air Force?" I says, "Yeah, if I'd stayed in the Air Force maybe I didn't make it, and you wouldn't be here either. So it came to pass that we had quite an operation, I had three engineering groups reporting to me, blah blah blah, and so on, big time. And they bought a bunch of properties on the West Coast. And they called me out to Liverpool, which is our headquarters, and the boss sat me down, he says, "Bill," he says, "I want you to move down to Dulles Air Force, air base, down in Washington. Take over all the engineering for the country." I said, "No." He says, "What do you mean, are you afraid?" I said, "No." I said, "I can do it, I know I can, but," I said, "I'm not going to move into a city. I'm not going to move my kids and my wife again." So of course they made it, you know how it happened. They made it bad enough for me so that -- not, they didn't, you know, give me a hard time or anything, but -- so I left them and went to work for here. Telephone, you know, telephone, [TDS?], down here. And I, and I worked their stuff for quite a while. And then they got to be kind of weird, too, so I didn't like what they were doing. SY: What were they doing? RWP: The fact was, I was with TES, not TDS. And I was billed out very heavily to all these telephone compan-- which I did not like. I thought, you know, the cost for engineering was too much. You know, I'm here to provide a service, yes, but it was, the cost of the other companies was too much. And I got a lot of pressure from, from Wisconsin, to try and get extra work on the outside, and I had more work than I could take care of, it would, I only had two men. And they were trainees, at that time, so. Consequently, I 26 never said I'd never go back to Bell, but I went back with Bell. I went back with Bell up here. And my son-in-law, at that time, was alive, he was working for Bell. I went and interviewed, and they said, "We didn't realize there were people like you with that much experience." I said, "Well, it just so happens that I am." So I went back with them, and had a good time. And then, in '94, I retired, spent five years bridged the Long Island time, 18 years. In '94, I retired, and I went, and I knew [Bob Hayden?] from -- he headed up the building and grounds at Norwich. And at that time, Norwich was affiliated with Vermont College. And they were looking for a plant superintendent, over there. So they hired me to go over there, and I signed a contract for a year, as superintendent for the grounds over there. That's what I enjoyed; I did the time, got along good with the teachers and everything else. And then Bell went back and started hiring contract engineers, so I decided, I went back, I worked for an outfit called, [Mountain Ltd?], out of Maine -- Sacco, Maine -- as a contract engineer. And I went on for a few years, got my office, had an office right out here. And that's the story of my life, then I finally retired, and. And here I am. SY: And what do you do with yourself, now that you're retired? RWP: You won't believe this, but I have a camp. In Roxbury, which is only five miles from here, and I love that. And I'm there. Not only that, I do my plants here in the summertime, I have a big garden with plants, a flower garden, out back. I don't do carpenter work like I used to, I built the porch out here and so on and so forth, but. I've stayed busy. And I'm not lonely, I have a lot of good memories, a lot of good pictures. Oh, then the Grenadiers, too, that was another thing we were going to discuss, weren't we? 27 SY: Yes. I think so. What -- the Grenadiers? What's that? RWP: Oh, that was another, another thing, too, yeah. This, I got other Grenadier pictures. It's a Grenadier dance that we had, after the war. They had had -- they had the Grenadiers here before the war. But it was affiliated with Norwich. Some of the guys came back -- Tommy Boggs, Joe Bergen, Al Bucci, Brad Cook, Donald R. Martin, they were all -- and that's 99% veterans there -- and we just, they just started talking about starting to have another dance band. So we did, and we rehearsed where the clinic is now. SY: And were you good? RWP: Of course I've got other pictures that show that, but. What they did, they said, you can have, and we won't use the Grenadiers. We weren't affiliated with the college at all, we were separate. Warren Mell came back as the manager. SY: And where'd you play? RWP: We played here, we played in the armory downtown, we played a dance in the -- we substituted for -- oh, what's it, what was his name. One of the dance bands, couldn't make it from snow, we played that, we played Middlebury, we played UVM. SY: Did you ever want to be a musician? Did you ever think that -- RWP: Oh I was, I was a musician though. SY: I know you're a musician, but did you ever decide that you wanted to, to do that to make a living? RWP: Only, no. SY: Why not? RWP: No. Because I mean, I wanted, I loved that, I mean, I liked, I wanted to fly, I flew. I wanted to play the horn, which I did, and I played dances and everything else, which I did 28 enjoy that, I enjoyed that. But I was, I love, the telephone business was fabulous. I was, you know, providing -- SY: What did you love about the telephone business? RWP: What I loved about it was the fact that I could -- the, the, being in the rural areas, you know, I had the northern part of the state of Vermont for a long time. And the country, the people, and, like my mother had always said to me, she said, "You know, Bill, the best education you're going to have, is with people." And it's true. And I just enjoyed, you know, giving, providing service for people, it was in order, they're paying the bill, you provide service for them. SY: So you met a lot of people. RWP: Yes. And I just love people. SY: That makes sense to me. RWP: I just love people. SY: So when did you stop playing the saxophone? RWP: A couple of years ago. It's out there on the rack, it's out. I have, I have CDs that I can play right along, like I'm in a band. SY: Do you miss it? RWP: Yeah, it's, it's one of those things. I just, it's just I dropped it, I don't do it any more. SY: Is it harder to do because, as you age? RWP: You have to blow, yeah. SY: It's harder to get the breath? RWP: Yeah, yeah. But when we started out -- I don't know what I've got here to show you but -- what have I got here. Oh, that's the plant, the band we had down on Long Island. But. 29 What, we had to, in the beginning, we had to wear un-- they said, the only thing. "You can use the engineers, use the, the what-you-call-it name, the Grenadiers, but you've got to wear the old uniform, so." And we did. And that's, there, see the old uniforms? And they were hot. They were really too hot to play in. SY: Yeah, you guys all look kind of red-faced, even though it's black and white, I can tell that you're a little bit red-faced. RWP: And the guy next to me's Hazen Maxwell; he was a fighter pilot. This is down in the -- where did we play. We played a dance, and my wife's in one of these things, I don't know which one it is. And I think, I'm not sure, but I think some of these pictures are in, are in the history up on -- SY: In the museum? RWP: [Jim Bennett?] was the music teacher here for years, and he and I got on real well. And he knew about, he found out about this, and I took some stuff up there. SY: Let me go check. I might, I don't remember them being there, but I -- there are parts of the museum that I've, that I've missed. RWP: (overlapping dialogue; inaudible) [00:48:37] stuff. SY: So wait, I had a question. RWP: There's me playing a solo, believe it or not. SY: Ah, what were you playing? RWP: Probably "Eager Beaver," it's a jump tone. SY: Look at that. RWP: Yeah, that's a good one right there. That's down in the Armory, down below here. 30 SY: Yeah. This is, these are great pictures. So do you remember? Somebody was telling me that, after the war, there were a lot of vets who were living off-campus -- RWP: Yup, oh yeah. SY: -- in this, like -- RWP: Oh, yeah. There was a, a lot of us. Well, I had an apartment, a two-room in an apartment with other folks. They were all over the place. A lot of my class married girls from town, here. And a lot of them, and they had, oh, let's see. Where was that. You know where the Norwich Apartments are now, on 12, they're just used for storage there? That area in there, all, that was all, like, what do they call them. Pre-fabs, little pre-fabs. SY: And they, and it was like a little -- RWP: I had pictures over here at one time, I don't know where they are now, it is now. SY: And people were scrambling to make a little money, too, right? There were like sandwich operations, and do you remember that? RWP: What's that? SY: I remember, other people have told me that a lot of those vets, they had families, and they were in school, and they were really scrambling to make money -- RWP: Oh, yeah. Well, we all worked, we all worked on the side, had to. I mean, I forget what we, have a GI bill, but it wasn't a heck of a lot, even if they got married, it wasn't a whole heck of a lot. I mean, you know, a lot of them went to school, not, not like today's world, but. But it was, it was a good experience. Hell, I was only, what. 21, 20. About that old. SY: You were a kid. You were a kid. So when you look back on your life, what have been the parts that have given you the greatest joys and sense of accomplishment? 31 RWP: The whole life. SY: The whole thing? RWP: I mean, my beginning, my parents, the way I was treated, my schooling. I could have been, I should have done better academically, no doubt about that. The sports that I played, the music that I played, learning to fly, being married, having a family. And now it's, and I saw this happen with the folks, too. My whole life, I feel, is great. A tremendous life, and you know, there must be other people like me, too, but, you know, I'm not different that way, but. I don't see my grandchildren as much as I'd like to right now. I don't travel any more, I won't be traveling. I don't like to travel, let's put it that way. And they're all over the country. So. But that's, that's, right now, it's a little slow. But I'm not lonely, I'm happy. I'm still affiliated with Norwich, I know Tony Mariano, I know Gail real well, I know Richard and Jamie Schneider, they're good friends of mine, General Todd. The whole bunch, so. SY: How was North-- you've lived in Northfield a long time. How has Northfield changed since you first showed up here? RWP: A lot. It's changed a lot. It is, it really has. And it's, it's not -- SY: Are there parts for the better, and parts for the worse? RWP: I'd say it's all, it's all for the better. It's, it's the way that life is, today's world. There's not much you can, I can say about it, I think -- you know, you've got this, you've got that, you know, you've got. Like my mother, in the beginning, she says, "Oh, my goodness," she says, when we said we're going to move to Vermont, "Good Lord," she said, "what do you have up there?" And I said, "Mother, all you have to do is, it's got everything." I mean, if you want anything. Drama, you got -- Burlington's only 50 miles away. You've 32 got everything there, you've got everything in Montpelier, you know, it's available to you. As far as, you know, oh, whatever. But I, I -- Vermont has changed, no doubt about it. Like, the way my camp is, I have a camp that I love, and I've had it for 50 years, and houses being built around it, you know, it's, it's one of those things. I can't see them, they can't see me, but still, in all, they're there. SY: Yeah, and you know they're there. RWP: Know they're there. And I, I don't go to Norwich as much as I used to, I just, you know, I don't. When I was with the Bell System and everything, I used to make, you know, decent donations, and because Bell would make their matching funds, too. But I had a good life, I've had a wonderful life. SY: Any regrets? RWP: No. No, I don't, I have none whatsoever. I think I would have regretted -- I don't know. You know, you did, that, you often wondered, what would have happened if I had gone to Ithaca instead of coming here, you know? Would have, would I have met a woman as nice as I met here? See, that's the main thing. I met a good lady, nice lady. And we had some good kids, we got some good kids, very nice kids. None of them are graduating college, but the grandchildren are. So. SY: That's interesting, I wonder why not. RWP: Well, Rick started. He tried, what's the, what's the small college up in Burlington. Ah. SY: Burlington College? RWP: No, not Burlington College. It's just -- SY: Champlain. 33 RWP: Champlain College. He went, he quit that, then he went through with one in Vietnam. Mike never cared for it, and Pat? My son, Pat, went to Vermont College for one year. Jo-Anne went to a teacher's school over in New York State for one, one semester. But they never, they didn't. I thought that, seeing my mother, my mother went through high school in three years and went through Syracuse University in three years. But she was, she was a very nice person. Nothing, you'd never know it, that she was that educated, and everything else. But she was, she was rightly down-to-earth, with it. SY: Sounds like you all, your whole family, all more practically-oriented. You're -- RWP: I think so. SY: -- do-ers. RWP: It was a practical, you know. SY: You're do-ers. RWP: Yeah, but -- no. I, I, thank God I came here. And the way I got my education, the way I got my engineering title, I still think I did it better than if I'd gone through here. SY: Yes, that makes sense. I feel like I'm running out of questions, here. I'm wondering if you have any last things you want to, you want to add. RWP: No, I don't, I can't think of anything, questions I want to ask. I wonder how you're going to use this. SY: Well, the way it works is that, I have an assistant who transcribes this, so types it out, and then I'm going to send you a CD, and a written version of this transcript, and then you're going to look at it, and if there's something that you want to take out of the record, we'll take it out of the record, and then we're going to make it public, so that if somebody's 34 researching World War II, they might read the story of you flying up and down the coast, looking for submarines, and that they weren't there. RWP: Yeah, submarines, there weren't any submarines out there. SY: So the idea is for students to search through these oral histories, right? Maybe to use them in the museum for some reason. I have a feeling that we might be really interested in some of these music stories. It might be great to have some of those photos and have some audio of the music itself. RWP: Yeah. There were, there were two records. I think one of them, Jim might have had up there, "Eager Beaver," and "Stardust," I, that we made. That was, we made that in the old armory. SY: Really, you made two records. RWP: Yes, there were two records we made, then of course, as you, the Grenadiers, after that, they really got back into school again, and I think I've got the records. Yeah, I never played them, I don't have my regular. But we had the, a fellow named [Ralph Armor?], who would, was a vet, and he had been with special services during the war. He set us up in the, in the armory, we had the saxes, and stuff, right around the, the one, I had one mike. And trumpet and trombones off over here, and had the rhythm over here, what, you know. And we played, it sounded just like we were miked together, you know? SY: How does "Eager Beaver" go? RWP: Oh, it's a Stan Kenton tune. And - (laughter) SY: You want to sing it for me? RWP: I can't, I can't really. It was a jump tune. It was really, it was really fast. I can't sing it, I can't sing it. 35 SY: You can't sing, yeah. Do you still listen to those old records? RWP: I don't, what I do is that, D-E-V. On D-E-V, the radio station, they have dinner jazz on, from 6:30 until 9:00. And, when they don't have baseball, and so on and so forth, basketball. And I listen to that. SY: When you listen to it, what do you think about? RWP: Well, I think about the old days. When I used to, you know, play and everything. SY: What did it feel like, to be in a band? RWP: It was great. It was great, and, and you take a good outfit, like this, this -- that's another thing, I forgot to tell you. I never thought that I would get back to do something at Norwich. And the Norwich Project. I, in '70, '74, is it? I engineered, and we put in, student (inaudible) [00:58:22] up there, all over the (inaudible) [00:58:25]. And then all the buildings had a, connection point, run in back of the chime tower. SY: Yeah. Do any of your kids ever want to go to Norwich? RWP: No. SY: They weren't interested? RWP: No. SY: Why not? RWP: I don't know. I don't know, I have no idea. SY: Your son went into the service? RWP: Yeah. SY: He was in Vietnam? RWP: He was, well, he was in Thailand. He was in the B-52s over in the Air Force. SY: Do you remember what that period was like, were you frightened for him? 36 RWP: No, I wasn't frightened for him. He said that they got attacked a few times, you know, and stuff, but. He, yeah, he sees some of his buddies every once in a while, when he comes up (inaudible) [00:59:13]. He's got one guy in Connecticut, Tom, he stops and sees him. Dom, down in Connecticut. But, no. No, I wasn't too worried about him, he was, you know, a little harassment that they had at the air bases, wasn't, you know, nothing that really serious. But, no. I can't think of anything. I, like I said, maybe it's -- I just enjoyed life, I just enjoyed people. I like to talk to people, you know? SY: You lived in these small towns where you knew everybody. RWP: Yeah. That's, that's the whole thing of it. SY: That sounds like it gave you a lot of pleasure. RWP: Oh, yeah. SY: You were like, I'm not going into a city, you liked the intimacy of a small town. RWP: Yeah. SY: I don't have any more questions. This was great. I feel like I should have some more, but I think you talked about everything so efficiently, that I don't have any more questions. Now, what are these. RWP: What is, what does it say. SY: It says, "TD's Pictures, '50s and '70s." RWP: Oh, now that's me, I -- SY: Oh, tell me about Montauk. RWP: Of course, that was another thing, that, to get the engineering title. Back in those days, we had a bunch of small New York Tel officers down there, with operators, you know? And they were concentrating them, and moving, making one office out of -- I did that, I 37 worked for the off-- i worked for, oh, I bought the properties, and, that they were going to put the land on, and that was a real quiet thing, and so on and so forth, and. And in Montauk, and they drove me all the way out from Patchogue, to take that stupid picture. SY: And what were the people like in Montauk? That's fancy -- RWP: Nothing, there was nothing in Montauk -- SY: -- fancy territory. RWP: Montauk was a nothing place. It was a, fishing there, little fishing shacks up on the north, on the bay. SY: Have you been down there and seen how it's changed? RWP: No, no, I don't want to go out there. SY: You don't want, it would be too painful? RWP: No, not really. I just don't care for all the people, it's just, you know, it's just packed. SY: Yeah, it is packed. RWP: I don't know, some of that stuff is redundant, whatever, some of these same pictures. SY: So I didn't realize that Bell had their own engineering certifica-- school, and that was how you got the, your engineering certification, was through Bell. RWP: That's right. Well, though some of those pictures that you saw, there, too, I went to school, and we had a management school, up above where you're from. Not in Rockland, but. That's right, I had to try this track there, at the school. SY: Like, Bear Mountain or something? RWP: No, no, no -- SY: Monroe? RWP: No. Oh, God. Why can't I think of that name? 38 SY: West Point? RWP: No, it was further inland. It was inland, in the southern tier. SY: Like, Poughkeepsie? RWP: It was above Poughkeepsie. It was Goshen, New York. Oh, it didn't make a difference. We went to school up there. And I can remember, my boss at that time was Lloyd Crisfield, I had my title, at the time. And he says, "Rip," they called me Rip. We call, well, my father's name was Rip, Richard I. Pemberton, Richard Isaiah, Rip, they called him, Rip, oh, always, it. But my boss, Crisfield, said, "Well, you, you're going to go to two weeks up there," he says, "[Frank Maloney?]'s going to be there from New York City, a little short guy with glasses, he's an older man." He says, "He'll have two suitcases, one will be full of clothes, the other will be full of booze. But," he says, "all I'm going to tell you is this," he says. "You listen to what they have to say, but you're going to find out more, in the bar and the evenings afterwards, by talking to the guys, which we did. We had engineers from all over the state of New York. And I never realized the amount of independent telephone companies that there were, or are. And that a lot of New York was, I had independent companies over in northern New York that I had, I took care of, over there. And that was interesting, too. I didn't, I didn't mention that before. But when we would buy property, I would go in ahead of time, and meet the people, critique what they had for equipment -- people, buildings, outside plant -- and report back as to what, you know, what it was worth, and so on and so forth, which was very interesting. I never, I didn't believe in firing anybody. I knew that could be a very bad situation, you know, when you walk into a place, and you're an unknown person, and start firing people, you know you've got problems. But that did get worked out anyway. 39 But it was a lot, it was very interesting. I still think that the, there's a lot of times, well. And then, of course, I could not go back today. I mean, I still could do structure. But everything is computer. And they'd even do the jobs on the computer, they don't even look at them in the field any more, they just punch them in and do them, you know? And it's just done. I couldn't, you know, I wasn't going to fit in today, but. SY: Yeah, it's a whole different world. RWP: Different world. It's too bad that, like I, like I had, that they don't have something like that at Norwich, where you're hands-on. Germany does it, I think, with a lot of their students, over there. You work as a person, and then you get you, whatever you're going to get out of it. But. But then, I agree with that. I, I really do. Because, like I said, you learn. Boy. And I, I learned a lot. the first job I ever did, when I went into management. They had a, a whole stack of pole records. And then engineer I worked for was one heck of a man, and I can never say enough of this guy, Floyd Bolles, and he taught me, and he was great. But he told me, the first, he says, "First job for me," he says, "you take all of these records, these are done by people in the field, pole inspectors, you put out jobs for what they say. You know, replace the poles, do this, do that, and then another, my first to start. I threw out all these jobs. About half of them came back. And I learned a lesson. I will not put a job out unless I see it. My name's going on it; I'm going to see it. And that's the way it was. SY: Yes, you were very hands-on. RWP: Yeah, hands-on. I get calls every once in a while, and go back to work. SY: Really? 40 RWP: I help them go in the road. Good lord. They know, I know structure. Buried cable. I, you know, I did, I buried cable over the United States, I mean, all over New England. It was a lot of fun. SY: Have you ever gone back to the house you grew up in, in Long Island? RWP: I haven't, but my daughter has been down for class reunions, my class is pretty well-decimated, my high school class. And she said, she told me, you know, the last time she was down there, she says, you don't really want to see the house that the folks lived in, because it's been bought by people from New York City, and it's, they don't live in it, it's, it's going to wreck and ruin. Now, they were on one corner, over here. The properties both joined, we were over on this street, over here, we had a story and three-quarters, we bought it over here. When we sold, bought that house, we paid 6,500 bucks for it. SY: Wow. RWP: Wow. When I moved in, moved up here in '66, we received $12,500 for it. SY: What do you think it's now, what do you think it costs now? RWP: The last time it was sold, this is well over a hundred years old, it's, so that, in the village, it's not near the water, $765,000. That's what my village is going to. SY: Do you miss the ocean? RWP: I never missed the ocean, I never liked the ocean. SY: You didn't like the ocean? RWP: No, I liked the bays and -- SY: You said you swam all the time. RWP: -- the bay and the sound. SY: Ah. Well, do you miss the bay and the sound? 41 RWP: The bay and the sound, oh yeah. SY: Do you miss the bay? RWP: I miss the bay more than I miss the sound. Matter of fact, just before you came, I was watching the, that reality show on, about buying houses, and they were in [Southold?], Long Island. Are you, are you familiar with Southold at all? SY: A little bit. RWP: I mean, you've heard of it. SY: Yeah. RWP: Yeah, they were buying houses there for $500, $600,000. (laughter) SY: It's a different world. RWP: A different world. No, I, I miss the trip down, I don't. But right now I have no relatives there, no place to stay. It would cost me, just a weekend, or three or four days, just to go down, take the ferry, and stay, and then, about $1,000. You know? I mean, it's -- and there's no, about to, I mean, I, we have too many good memories of the place down there. SY: Yeah. All right. RWP: Anything else? SY: No, I think this is good. But luckily you're right in town, so if it occur -- (whispering) hold on, reloading. So, what were you saying. RWP: No, I was saying, I had no war experience, you might say. But, coming up here, and I've found that, over the years, the people who have seen and done the most don't talk about it. I don't know what you're going to get, I mean, there's, there are some people that will carry on at great length. SY: Your generation, people don't talk about it. Later generations, people do. 42 RWP: Yeah. SY: It's, that stoic -- RWP: Because we, even when we came back here. Even though, would, we used to go to Montpelier to drink, you know, Northfield was dry. Used to ride the, go over, get on, and ride the train back, and they'd drop us off down here. But I can remember the first couple times. Oh, we did, we just had a lot of laughs, had a good time. Nobody talked about the war. Like I said, there was three of us in that room, and alumni. Nobody ever talked about the war. Even though we saw -- the only time you saw, it was when we, we had to take group showers, of course, and you could see the guys were wounded and stuff. And there were a lot of guys that were wounded, that came in here. SY: And nobody mentioned it? RWP: Nobody ever said. Nobody, never talked about it. You knew they were all in service, that was, we all (laughter) wore the old uniforms. I mean, what was left of them. We had no, had no clothes, we had no money. SY: Do you think that, did you ever see signs of, you know, we talk about PTSD a lot now; did you see signs -- RWP: No, I never did. I never did, and it was never talked about. And it was never, I never saw it. This uncle that was shot up pretty bad in the Marines, he had an attitude, a little bit, a problem. I figured it was due to something, he got shot up, but. But no, it's, it's, I never saw that, what they call it now. SY: Were you relieved that you didn't have to go into combat, or did you feel guilty about it -- RWP: No. No, I would have gone, I would have gone. No, hell, no, I, that's what I wanted to do. 43 SY: Were you upset that you didn't get to go into combat? RWP: Yes. Yes. Definitely so -- SY: Why? RWP: -- but I was glad the war was over, because, you know, a lot of my friends had gotten hurt, and some killed, and so on and so forth. And then we'd had enough. I would have, you know, I missed it by a year. If I'd been born a year earlier, I would have, you know, I would have, I would have gone overseas, probably. No doubt about it. SY: I'm still confused about this, though. Because your first assignment was, was flying up and down the coast. RWP: That was just with the Civil Air Patrol. SY: That was the Civil Air Patrol. RWP: Civil Air Patrol. Oh, yeah. SY: And then, later, you went to basic. So how old were you when you were doing that, was that after high school? RWP: 17, I was 17. SY: OK, so you could join the Civil Air Patrol at 17 -- RWP: Yeah, that's right. SY: -- but you didn't actually join the service until you were 18. RWP: Right. No, no, they let me finish my senior year in high school. SY: I see. And so you were flying while you were in your senior year in high school. So it's just, like, on weekends, kind of. RWP: Yeah, yeah. SY: Got it. And then you went to basic -- 44 RWP: Right. SY: -- and so you missed it, you missed it by a year. Yeah. That makes sense, that makes sense. Do you remember hearing about the Holocaust? RWP: Oh, yeah. Everybody heard about the Holocaust. SY: But you didn't know -- during the war, you didn't know anything like that was happening, right? It was only after? RWP: Oh, no, not until the war was over. We had people hearing from (inaudible) [01:12:06], then other places that were, that freed these people. And yeah, it was in the, I guess, you know, it wasn't, it wasn't fun, I mean, it was something else. SY: Did anybody ever mention that to you? Did anybody ever talk about that? RWP: No. Never, not that much, we never talked about it. It, it, oh, you have to, I have to feel bad for, about the people that say it never happened, because it did happen. SY: I interviewed a guy named [Jack Pimm?], who was at Norwich when you were. John Pimm, Jack Pimm. And he was in the first group to go into Buchenwald. RWP: There was a guy here in, oh, God, I forget where he was from, too, up your way, he's Montpelier or over. And he was, and he was one of the first, they had big write-ups on that, too. When he went in. He was -- Pimm? SY: Pimm. RWP: P-I-M-M? SY: M-M. P-I-M-M. RWP: P-I-M-M. Oh, I'm trying to remember names. SY: He started out, before the war, at Norwich, and then they all mustered out, and then he came back -- 45 RWP: Oh, no, I didn't -- SY: -- and finished, just two years, two years afterwards, though. So it might have been the same time that you were here. Yeah. RWP: I left in '48. SY: Now, what about your son, does he ever talk about the war? So, he was in Vietnam, or no? RWP: He was in Thailand. And then the B-52, they flew, they dropped the bomb (inaudible, talking on top) [01:13:25] SY: But during the Vietnam War. RWP: Yeah. SY: Yeah. Now, does he ever talk about it. RWP: No. SY: No. RWP: He talks about it more now, well. Not -- getting together with his buddies, that's all, he doesn't talk about what happened over there. No. He's, what. Sixty-five, something like that. SY: Hm. That's interesting, though, what you're saying, about the people who saw the most not talking it, and being in the showers, and seeing it. Yeah. And what, I mean, you would just look away? RWP: No, I mean, what the hell. SY: Yeah, it was what it was. RWP: That's what it was. Norwich was, as far as I'm concerned, I think Norwich has done real well, I know that, during the Vietnam era, it was, hard time keeping it going. I, I firmly 46 agree with bringing the girls in there. I think that's a great thing. I agree with what they're doing about off-campus, on-campus, and so on and so forth. I think that they're, I like it, it's a good school. It's really a good school. SY: And you think it's going in the right direction? RWP: Oh, yes. Definitely. And I've told Schneider that a few times myself. I think that, that new clinic is going to be a big plus for everybody. SY: I think so, too. RWP: Yeah, because I was just up to the old place the other day. But no, I just, I like the small town, I like it here. I can't see myself going into senior housing down there. SY: To Mayo? RWP: Yeah. No, not Mayo. I mean the, the senior housing, I mean there's nothing involved with the (inaudible) [01:15:00]. SY: You're doing OK here, by yourself. RWP: Oh, yeah. I, I get some meal, I'm very selective on meals, and I don't eat as much as I used to. And I'll do my own, I have my own breakfasts and I have, if I have lunch down there, like tonight, I'll have yogurt and crackers and cheese, or something like that. SY: And you can still drive. RWP: Yeah, I'm fine. SY: Yeah, you're fine. RWP: I, I had a, I've got a pacemaker, put in here in 19, 2013. But other than that, it's good. SY: Other than that you're doing OK. Knock wood. RWP: Yeah. SY: All right. You know -- 47 END OF AUDIO FILE
Transcript of an oral history interview with Reinhard M. Lotz, conducted by Sarah Yahm at Norwich University in Northfield, Vermont, on 10 April 2015, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project of the Sullivan Museum and History Center. Reinhard Lotz graduated from Norwich University in 1960; the bulk of the interview focuses on his subsequent military career in the U.S. Army. ; 1 Reinhard M. Lotz, NU 1960, Oral History Interview April 10, 2015 Sullivan Museum and History Center Interviewed by Sarah Yahm SARAH YAHM: Could you introduce yourself on tape? RON LOTZ: Yeah, my name's Reynard M. Lotz, they call me Ron. And I'm living in St. Louis, Missouri at the time. I had 30 years in the army and retired in 1990. So that means I'm the class of 1960. So again, it means that I'm in my 77th year. SY: Seventy seventh year, congratulations. So where were you born? RL: I was born in Jamestown, New York in 1938. SY: Where is Jamestown? RL: Jamestown is a town that I spent about four months in and then I really grew up in Waterbury, Connecticut. That was an industrial town, blue collar town, brass center of the world during the 19 -- actually up until after the war, until the 1950s. I can remember World War II and the blackouts. I can remember going by the factories that used to run 24 hours a day seven days a week and all the machines click clacking away. And they were making shell casings and that for the war effort. SY: And what were your parents doing during the war? RL: Well my mother was a stay at home mom. I had a sister. And my father ran the F.W. Woolworth Company, five and ten cent store there in town. And so when I was growing up I started working for my father when I was eight years old. And my father would pay me out of his own pocket. SY: Really? RL: Yeah, just because I wanted to earn some money and then I also did things like wash cars for 50 cents and mow lawns for 50 cents. So I was an entrepreneur. SY: I was just going to say, you were a little entrepreneur. Excellent and so when you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up? RL: You know it's a funny thing, I had some likes, but I never knew I would follow those. But I love military history. I love to read. And when I was at a very young age, I took my mother's library card and went into the adult section and got books to read. SY: You were one of those -- hold up, I got to close that door because of the sound of the vacuum is much louder on tape. RL: I understand.2 SY: Hey there. F2: Hello. SY: I'm doing interviews and the vacuuming is super loud. Do you know who's vacuuming and why? F2: No idea, but (inaudible) [00:02:31]. SY: OK, well I'll see you tomorrow. We'll just have to deal with the vacuuming. OK so you took the library card and you went -- RL: Into the adult section and got books and read them. I was one of those kids that loved to read and military history was one of my passions you might say. SY: I ask this to everybody actually, did you play war as a kid? RL: Yes, in the sandbox outside my back door. We had a sandbox. And I had plastic soldiers from that timeframe and I used to dig caves and castles and machine gun pits and the whole bit. SY: And was it World War II in your mind, was it World War I, was it the Civil War, was it the Revolutionary War. RL: Well it was World War II because I grew up in that timeframe and that was the thing that was most prevalent at the time. And during that time, you're going to grammar school, if you turned in newspaper and depending on how many bundles, et cetera, et cetera, you get stripes. I don't know if they call that PTA or whatever but there was an emblem you could put on your sleeve on your jacket with stripes on it depending on how much you collected and contributed to the war effort. SY: Interesting. Wow, OK, so the war was very much a part of your childhood. So how did you end up deciding to go to Norwich? RL: Well I went to a prep school, Mount Hermon, which was in Massachusetts, northern Massachusetts. But it was a prep school that part of your tuition was paid with working eight hours a week. And so when I went there I started off in the farm working with dairy cows. And then my second year I was groundskeeper and my third year building cleaning. And the epitome of my career at prep school was that I was a waiter in the dining facility which gave you a lot more free time and you became the friend of a lot of people who liked to sit at your table because you would make sure that you were in the kitchen, the first to get the food, et cetera, et cetera, and they always had second helpings. So I was at Mount Hermon and I applied to three colleges. One I was put on a waiting list, one I was rejected, and the other was Norwich University. Now I was a C+ student. So -- SY: Even with all that reading?3 RL: Oh with all that reading. My reading skills were far superior to my age, but the point being is that I came to Norwich and there was a lieutenant colonel -- no, he wasn't a lieutenant colonel, he was a first sergeant or sergeant major at that time. He was lieutenant colonel my freshman year. But he took me around the school and so impressed me with his attitude towards the school plus also how he treated me as a person that when I left I told my parents that's where I wanted to go. Now you have to realize too at that time all of us had to have a military obligation. Either you went in for six months, then the reserve or you went for two years active duty and that. So we were going to have to go into the military anyway and I loved military history. And when I came to Norwich University I just kind of fit in you might say. SY: Yeah, so what was your experience like as a rook? A lot of people have described a harsh awakening at that moment. Were you prepared? RL: I guess since I've been away to prep school and been away from home and that that I was able to adapt a lot easier maybe than those who had not been. I took it all with a grain of salt. I said these are things you're going to have to put up with so keep your mouth shut and grin and bear it. SY: Now were there some kids -- I know there were a lot of kids who washed out, it was like 51% or something in your class. Dick did the math. He told me. But do you remember, were there kids who got targeted? Do you remember hazing or was it mostly just like this is just something we need to get through, this is an elaborate game? RL: I think that there's always a certain amount of hazing. Hazing not in a real rough or negative sense, but hazing in the sense that maybe one guy or several people just maybe don't fit the mold so therefore they might get a little bit more of harassment than you did. Or maybe that you have adapted and try to do what the cadet is telling you to do, therefore the heat's off you. And we always used to try to help those cadets or rooks who were having a tough time. Heck, we helped polish their shoes. We made sure their uniforms were pressed. Some kids just weren't capable of accomplishing all that. And then you have to say too, I think today at Norwich the qualifications academically and everything have improved a great deal. Now you have SATs and ACT scores. Back in those days, it was based upon submission and also the recommendation from your teachers and of course your grades. But Norwich is a totally different school today versus back in the 1950s. SY: Yeah, but that's interesting. So you do remember helping kids out. RL: Oh yeah, absolutely. And some of the rooks harassed the rooks. I mean it wasn't just upper classmen. But it was sometimes -- it's a predator type of atmosphere and I think it's human nature. You just have to be careful of that and aware of it and make sure that it doesn't happen if you can do something to stop it, you see. SY: Yeah, and that's always the question is how do you keep it from crossing that line. RL: That's right. And it's how strong a person you are. If you're a very strong person with morals and with firm beliefs, then you try to do something to change that, but it's the 4 method in which you change that that's the key. If you're abrasive or in your face or something, the person that you're talking to or trying to get something changed, it's not going to work. You have to be able to balance it out and approach it in the right way in order to get results. And I learned this at Norwich. I used that all through my army career, is to approach something -- always treat the other person like you would like to be treated yourself. When you had a problem with a person, you sometimes had to be tough and some outright terminate his career or whatever, but it sometimes had to be done. It's not the fact that you wanted to do it, but the fact is that they broke the rules and there's nothing that you're going to repair it. You've had it. SY: Do you remember any moments at Norwich when you learned that lesson, any of those like difficult leadership dilemmas? It was a long time ago. RL: Well it's that I remember the good days. I remember one rook who he was never going to make it at Norwich because his intellect was to the point where you would say that it was at a level that was not college level, let me put it that way. Yet we tried to prep him for exams and things like that and we tried but he was finally eliminated because of his academics and he just couldn't do what had to be done. SY: It was almost cruel to keep him in the system. What part of the highs that you remember from your time in Norwich? RL: The comradery. SY: Had you experienced that before at boarding school? RL: No, I don't have friends -- my boarding school was something that I survived it. Academic-wise and everything else, it was a challenge for me. I was actually in a school that I was doing college work and so that prepared me though for Norwich because when I came to Norwich I was fully prepared to face the academics and know how to handle all that. So I got to say, that's a big plus. But when I got to Norwich, my relationships with the school and the profs and everything else, I remember the PMSNT, I remember those people who worked in the PMSNT office. I remember Major Pekoraro who was the engineer major there. And I was a business major but I joined the engineer society because of this major because he was a Korean War veteran who was a POW. And he was a role model. He was tough but just and just the type of person you felt you'd like to be around and learn from. There was a guy named Hardy who was a captain. And I think he had a relative or a brother or something that was going to Norwich at the time and he was an armored guy and he was a friendly, nice person. And then there was -- and some of the names here, I can't -- there was a lieutenant colonel there who also was a very role model. These guys were role models. The PMSNT was the tough guy, didn't have much association with him. But at Norwich I learned, because of our social life with our fraternities and things like that, it gave us an outlet and we had a closer relationship. And I think the class of 1960 has done amazingly well keeping abreast of each other and I've lost in the past year several of my classmates of whom I talked to before they passed on, just several days before they passed on, from the point that I wanted to say goodbye. It's a tough thing to do. You have to realize now that I'm on a 5 shortlist and those guys were important. And I think our class is like that. But Norwich has been a great influence on me because it gave me the opportunity for the leadership positions, I was a cadre member every year. My senior year I was -- we had the freshman battalion at that time and I was made the executive officer in charge of all the academics for all the freshmen. So I had to have academic boards. And we met on those with records of those cadets who were not achieving the standard that needed to be to graduate. So we would review their records and then recommended action, help, tutoring, or whatever it needed to try to get that kid back on track to get the rook, get them through that first year. SY: Do you think that type of dedication to the wellbeing of your rooks made you a better leader in the military later? RL: I think it did, but let me relate something that happened at summer camp. I was in the honor tank platoon and I also was -- SY: Hold on a second. It's like we're crossed here, it's like star crossed, you know what I mean. RL: I don't know if you can -- SY: I'm going to see if I can get Heather. (inaudible) [00:15:00] They're redoing the library. But it's like if somebody's talking in the hallway -- but they're right over there. She's going to ask. If she doesn't, we might just need to shell this as well into the back. RL: Are we going to have repeat all this again? SY: No, I can edit it together. But I want people to be able to listen to actual sound clips that don't involve listening to somebody -- RL: You can say that's combat. (laughter) You can hear the guns in the background, you know. SY: Exactly, this is so authentic that I took my recording all the way into whatever. Did Heather work her magic? I think she might've worked her -- RL: No, I don't think she's had time to -- and I don't think they're going to stop. They're on a time schedule and what's going to happen is they're going to just drive you nuts and have you do it. SY: You know this happens, they don't do work for days and I don't know their schedule and I can't ever get it. And then I'm like, "Great, they're done for a while." Then I bring someone in. This has happened to me like two or three times. RL: Well let me think. Want to try? SY: Yeah, let's keep talking.6 RL: If we can't maybe I can do something tomorrow, if I can. SY: Yeah, if you can you can pop by and if not, you're going to be back in October. RL: OK, we were talking about ROTC and summer camp. And I went to summer camp at Fort Knox -- thank you. SY: You're awesome. RL: And when I was there, we had two companies, A and B, and I was company A. And we had a lot of Norwich grads were there, plus VMI, plus Citadel, plus from all over, from all the ROTC units. And this was at Fort Knox. And there were two incidents that I remember vividly. One is that on a Saturday afternoon in 90 degree heat in my khaki uniform with an M1 on my shoulder, I was walking guard duty around the barracks that we lived in, World War II barracks. And the rest of the cadets were getting ready to go off because after twelve o'clock on Saturday they could go into town and do all that and I had the guard duty. I was on guard. And so I was walking around the barracks and one of the tac officers came up to me from Norwich and I reported to him and the general orders and the whole bit. And I was soaking wet. And he says, "Well how's it going?" And I turn to him and I said and I was facing him and I said, "Well sir I'm going to tell you that this has taught me one lesson, that I will never go into this man's army as a private." And he laughed. Well let me tell you, I was very serious about that. And then it came to where we were closing out and we were going to rate our contemporaries in the barracks and that. One of my classmates came up to me and said, "Ron," he says, "Don't you worry." He says, "Me and the boys are going to take care of you." And what he meant was that of all the Norwich guys and all the guys in that barracks that these guys had gotten together and rated me number one. SY: And why were you rated number one. RL: Because I think they liked me. You can't question that because you never are actively trying -- you're treating people the way you want to be treated. And you want to be a leader in the sense that you do the right thing at the right time and for the right reason. But when he came up and told me that and there were some pretty high powered Norwich guys in the cadet corps and they were going to be -- running the regiment that coming year. And so when it all came out there were two guys ranked top in armor ROTC summer camp. One was from VMI and one was from Norwich. It was me and one other guy. And so we went up head on head competition and the guy from VMI won out, which is fine because I went in there kind of naïve and I didn't know what to expect. But the point being was that I had the opportunity, Norwich had the opportunity, and Norwich did well at summer camp. And that was all that was important to me. So those things impacted on me and also the professors like Loring Hart who later became president of the university, he was my English teacher. And I was the news editor on the Guidon. And we had some West Point cadets come up because we had fraternities at that time, they said to us, "Boy do you guys have it great here," because of the social life and everything. And that was the greatest thing about Norwich. Norwich has always been about the citizen soldier. Now this is before we had civilian students, so you got to 7 realize that what I'm talking about here is my time at Norwich as a cadet corps, the citizen soldier. They trained us to go out into the world and be a civilian but if the country needed us, to come back and to serve our country. And that was our whole philosophy. SY: And I think the other element of the citizen solider that I find compelling is the idea that you're a thinking citizen with a trained mind and you also know how to follow orders, right? RL: Absolutely. SY: And so I'm wondering as you sort of went on in the army if that training as a citizen soldier ever got you into trouble. Did those two things ever clash, your moral code, your ethics, your trained mind, and, "Do this?" RL: Well I think it could and maybe did. It's like yes and no. There's only two answers. There's a no or a yes and there's nothing in between. Now therefore you become very moralistic, moral, saying, "OK, that's wrong." But in the real world, there's a middle line there and you have to try to come to grips with that. Sometimes you can't stomach it. I mean sometimes it's either yes or no and that's it. I find that too many times people are not willing to say yes or no, they're willing to kind of muddy the water and go with a middle direction and that may not be the best way to do. And sometimes, and this I shouldn't probably say, but I say sometimes that affects our policies and the way we look at combat and the way we look at what's happening out there. SY: Was there ever a time when you said no? Was there ever a time you sort of refused an order? RL: Refuse an order? SY: Where you're like, "I don't think this is right." RL: No, I have found in life that you never -- if you're given an order and you're in a public place and that, don't ever say no, ever. The time to say no is after in private because I have learned that commanders do not want to be criticized in front of their troops or in front of a group. And they will cut you off at the knees. And I understand, some people didn't. You don't get in an argument if you're briefing and the commander is saying something that you may not agree with or is trying to correct you, you let them do it. Point being is you correct it after the briefing or whatever. And if he still does not accept your evaluation of such and such, then you let it go. Now to say that you always do what you're told to do, yeah you better watch out because if you're told to do by the commander and he comes back and checks and it's not done, you're going to lose your job. But if you're told to do something and find a better way to do it, that's a different story. So you have to think. It's not just those things, yes sir two bags full. It's the point is, "Yes sir," and think about, then how to get it done. If it's an impossible thing to do, and I ran across this when I was a battalion commander, and it was during a timeframe where we were faced with cuts in the budget and we weren't getting the right maintenance equipment and things like that. And my troops were living in World War II barracks where in the wintertime we had to almost wrap the whole building in cellophane 8 in order to keep the wind out and the cold out. And we had oil furnaces that sometimes went belly up. And in the summer time my troops were dragging their mattresses outside and sleeping in the street because it was so hot inside. And I had a confrontation with my brigade commander, support command commander. And I went into his office and told him I did not have to be motivated by his letter of reprimand. And he looked at me and he says, "Is that all?" And I said, "Yes sir." "You're dismissed." And I walked out. And these are World War II barracks and one of the clerks had called the other battalion commanders and they came running to the support command headquarters. And they said, "What did you do? Why did you do a dumb thing like that?" He says, "All of us have gotten these letters of reprimand," but this is the way the colonel commanded his troops with giving them letters of reprimand to light fires under them. Well I was not -- if somebody had told me this before, maybe I would've been a little mellow, but I wasn't. And I was just stubborn enough to go in and confront him. And I'm not encouraging people to do that, think it out, let it cool off before you do something. But from that day on, that commander and I had a great relationship. SY: He respected you? RL: He and I would sit down on a Saturday morning because we were working six days a week, sometimes seven days a week. And this isn't peace time now. And he would say, "OK." And with the problems that he knew were happening with the battalion, he would say, "OK." And then he would write notes to that battalion commander for maintenance or admin for people. He'd tell them I want so and so and so done. Or he'd look at me say, "That's your responsibility. You take care of it." And you damn well better take care of it because he was giving you support but you were responsible for all this, now you get it done. And when he left, years and years later, I was at Arlington National Cemetery visiting the grave of my mother-in-law. And my wife and I walked up the hill. This is just below where the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier is. And as I walked up and went onto the road, right across that street was a gravestone, a major general, who had been my support command commander. And I have done a composite book for all three of my children of my military record and in there I positively made this statement of this incident where he gave me a letter of reprimand. And what I said is that if I ever have to go to war, I want to go to war with this man because I knew that that was a man that I respected, that was a man that I knew he could do what he said he could do and he demanded that of his troops and he wouldn't take a "No." When he said, "Do it," you well knew it was to your benefit to do it. He had served three tours in Vietnam. He was highly decorated. He had been an enlisted man and then went to the prep school and then went to West Point. It was a guy I respected. SY: You trusted him. RL: Yeah. And you knew that he'd take care of you. But in order to survive in the battlefield, you had to learn and you had to do what he said because he had the experience. Now when you got the experience, you see, and then he would rely upon you to get the job done. But he'd tell you what to do and then it was up to you to do it. And how you did it, that was up to you.9 SY: Yeah, that's interesting. So let's rewind a little. So you finish up Norwich and you commission. And where do you go, what do you commission? RL: Well after I got my commission I went to -- because my eyes were not good enough for combat arms, I was commissioned in the transportation corps, but I had to serve three years in combat arms, that was the rule. So they sent me to Fort Benning. And I went to infantry officer basic course. I went to airborne school and then I went to ranger school. And if you ever need any stories about those schools, back in those days, I could tell you some that were -- again, it's one of those things where it is rough, but boy oh boy, you got to roll with the punches and you can have some good belly laughs out of it. SY: Well tell me one of them. RL: Well down in Florida during the jungle training, they kept you awake. They kept you on constant patrol, patrol, patrol. They wanted you to be exhausted, to see how you would react and how you could do it. Well we kept going out and out on patrols and we had a plan and usually we went out at night time, at night patrols. And I was the last guy in the patrol and I carried an M1 rifle. And we had these little florescent things attached to our cap where you can see the guy in front of you so you could follow him. And we were going through the swamps and there was a log there and I stepped over a log. And I took a step off the log and I went up to my waist in mud. And I looked around and there was nobody there. The guys had kept on going. They didn't know I was stuck in the mud. So here they are and you're not trying to shout or anything, but luckily the guy in front of me looked behind and didn't see me and sent the word up to halt for a minute. He came back and he had to pull me out of the mud or I would've been there to this day. And the fact is that we got through all this and we did all this and we were in the mountains one time and I had the automatic rifle slung across my neck and this is with the ammunition pouches and everything. We're walking up this mountain road and they said take a break. And I was on the left hand column, so I went off to the side of the road and just squatted to lean, I thought against a bank. Well there was no bank. And I went over head over heels down the side of this mountain and came up flat against a tree with my feet up in the air. And I wasn't hurt and I got myself out of that. So I called back up onto the road. Guys hauled me up. And we had a good chuckle about that. But it was stupid instances like that. They weren't funny to anybody else, but in our state of mind they were. And you never forget them. SY: Yeah, absolutely. So you do all of those different schools and then where's your first placement? RL: My first assignment was in Germany with the First of the Fifteenth Infantry Company B. That was the company that Audie Murphy served in during the Second World War. And as you know he was the most decorated of our military heroes. And at the time I arrived we were a straight infantry. We walked everywhere. We weren't mechanized. And while I was there, I was there a year and a half in Bamberg, Germany, and our mission was we would deploy to -- if the Russians came through the Fulda Gap to delay them as long as we could until the armor could move up to confront the enemy. So ours was the delaying action. Well while I was there, we became mechanized with armored personnel 10 carriers. But during that time we didn't have them, we would walk to training areas one way, either in the morning or walk back in the afternoon and be trucked out in the morning or be trucked back in the afternoon, one of them. But we walked one way because there was a gas shortage at that time. So periodically an infantry platoon was in our company was sent out to what they call a forward position, an infantry platoon plus an engineer platoon. And we had a cantonment area out there, barracks and all. And it was our job, we stayed in communication with the base, that if the balloon did go up and the Russians did come across then we had certain missions to protect the engineers in blowing bridges and et cetera, et cetera. And that's what our job was. And my job out there was to call unannounced alerts, usually early in the morning, and then the guys all had to jump, get dressed, and in the trucks, and gone out of the cantonment area to their designated positions. Now we did that for a year and a half and then because I was a transportation corps officer and had served my time in the combat arms, I was sent to Berlin, Germany. At that time it was a walled city. They were still building some of the wall. And it was isolated. There were four sections, French, British, American, and Soviet. And the Soviet section was walled in and you could only go -- usually you hear, "Checkpoint Charlie." Checkpoint Charlie was a real point in the wall with barbed wire and everything. Now I understand it's just like a block of concrete or something in the road. Well back then, it was real life. And I saw places where refugees had tried to climb the wall and had been terminated, had been killed. SY: So you saw their blood on the wall? RL: Well you knew where they were because the bodies had been taken away and we knew where they had tried to get across. But at that time I was a train commander and as a train commander I took the train from Berlin to Helmstedt which was in the western zone through the Russian zone. And we had to stop the train in Marienborn for a Soviet checkpoint. We wouldn't deal with East Germans. We didn't recognize the East Germans. We dealt with the Russians only. That was the politics of the time. And a Russian officer would be there. I had an interpreter and we would check every document for every person that was on the train. And sometimes you could tell when tensions were high the Russian officers would be really SOBs and when tensions were not high then they were more friendly. But there were always a couple of Russian officers who were SOBs regardless of what. However, I did that for a good year and at the same time I had a good buddy who had been in the infantry in one of the other battle groups in the same town, had been my roommate in Bamberg, Germany where we had been stationed, who reverted to the MP corps and came to Berlin and was riding the freight trains, the same route, everything else, but on a different track. But he was in charge of the MP detail that was on the freight trains. And I remember one time we got stopped in the middle of the Russian zone and I looked out my window of my passenger train and there was the freight train and there was my buddy. "How are you doing?" We put the window down, we'd chit chat before one of the trains moved on. He was going west and I was going east. But there were times like that and Berlin was -- SY: Were there any really high tension moments that you had?11 RL: Well yeah it was because you didn't know how they were going to react. I mean they could be real SOBs or they could be -- the thing is is that at that time you didn't want to take a chance of not following the rules. Berlin was the showcase of Western Europe. They had rebuilt it from the war and the contrast between West Berlin and the Soviet, it was like night and day. I was a staff officer for part of my time there and I had to take a Sedan and a driver and drive into the Russian sector just to show the flag. And sometimes I would get out to walk and I would take pictures of some -- Berlin before the war must've been a magnificent, beautiful city because I could tell you the architecture and everything else. And then the apartment buildings that the Russians had built looked about as drab and falling apart as you could ever believe. So that's why they had to put up the wall, that's why they had to stop the rupture of East Germans coming into the West. And cultural wise and everything else, the western zone -- guys, you couldn't have asked for anything more. And Kennedy came and paraded through West Berlin. I was there. I was there between like ten feet away, fifteen feet away, and believe it or not there was a Norwich graduate there, my class, name of Bob Francis who was in the signal corps. And I don't know if he was taking pictures for whatever, but he was there during the parade. I saw him and talked to him. Now when Kennedy lost his life, the Berliners, when he said ich bin ein Berliner and they just went crazy. They loved him. So when he died, they turned out every light in West Berlin. They turned out every light. There wasn't a light there and lit candles in their windows, put candles in their windows. SY: Do you remember where you were when you found out that Kennedy had been shot? RL: I was in Berlin, where exactly I can't remember. I just know that the effect it had on the Berliners and on the world was amazing. And the Berliners loved this man just from the standpoint of what he said that time and he had come. And the respect, the showing of respect by candles, putting them in the windows, and turning out all the other lights was amazing. No other president has been honored, I don't think, with such sincerity. People try to emulate, but unfortunately they fall far short. SY: Was there ever a moment when you were in Berlin or Germany in general where you were like, "This Cold War is about to get hot," where you thought, "Oh, it's going to start?" Did Dick tell me a story? Was it your story about a plane where if it took off, that was going to be a reaction? He said something about a plane. I don't know what I'm talking about. RL: That was Vietnam. SY: That was Vietnam. That was later. OK. RL: I keep hitting that. I can't remember because it was always there and you were always prepared. And so to say one point over another, I can't remember such. Now I did have a friend there who flew helicopters and I do remember flying over Hitler's bunker that was totally destroyed from the Second World War and there was just nothing but dirt, concrete, that had never been rebuilt. Little things like that I remember. I remember going to see the ballet, Swan Lake as a matter of fact. They brought all of these wonderful cultural things into Berlin to show people the difference between the two 12 countries or philosophies you might say. But to think about the tensions, yeah, but when we were told to make staff rides and to be in total communication with our headquarters because we never knew when our cars might be stopped and something might happen. But other than that, no. SY: Yeah, it was just a pervasive feeling? RL: It was a constant reminder and harassment to leave Berlin. To drive, it was going through checkpoints. And then you didn't know if you were going to get let back in and all of these things. But life goes on. SY: OK, so then you leave Berlin and where do you go next? RL: Well from Berlin I went to -- and let me relate something here too about Norwich. Back when I was a senior, Norwich had corporations come in to recruit and to interview you and that. Eastman Kodak came in and I was supposed to see them and I didn't. Eastman Kodak wrote me a letter and it said, "When you have your military obligation finished, let us know and we'll bring you to Rochester." So when I came back from overseas, there was a question there whether I would stay in the army or not. Not serious, but I wanted to explore all of my options. So I went to Rochester. They offered me a job and et cetera, et cetera, but I did stay in the military. SY: Why'd you decide to stay in? RL: Well maybe it was something I was used to, you felt comfortable in. You have a driving flame to be the general or something? No, I just felt comfortable in what I was doing. I liked what I was doing. And so I kind of just stuck with it. SY: And this is what? Now we're at '64? RL: Yes. SY: So Vietnam is just starting to get on people's radar. RL: The big buildup was '65, '66 when they started sending all the divisions over. And then of course '67, '68 being the Tet Offensive. So I was assigned out to Fort Lewis. And then I was only there a year and I was given orders to go to Fort Bragg to be trained as a Special Forces officer. So I reported into Fort Bragg and was trained. And the revolution in the Dominican Republic occurred. And the 82nd Airborne was deployed to the Dominican Republicans, so they sent a contingence of Special Forces down there, and I was one of those. My mission there was more -- as a detachment commander I was small team, modified team, intelligence gathering upcountry on the island. And then I came back after that and was the S4 for the unit. SY: So this is the revolution and opposition to Trujillo? RL: Trujillo had been assassinated. And the communist were trying to take over the country. And luckily the Dominicans were -- and the 82nd Airborne -- the US was asked to come 13 in and help. And they contained the uprising in the inner city of Santo Domingo, the inner city. And they barb wired it. They had literally barb wire all around the old city and kept the communist in there. Now there were some in the country, in other places and towns, but the Dominican Republic was set up as -- the police force was almost as strong as the army because every police force had a fort in every town. And they had their own weapons, et cetera, et cetera. And the police force was pretty brutal if there was any question at all. Like I was on jump status down there on the island and we used to jump over sugar cane fields. And nine out of ten times -- for practice and to keep proficient -- the police force or the military had brought in who they thought were rebels and popped them, dumped bodies in there. So you found those things. So there was a certain amount of strong armed tactics that the Dominicans were imposing against their own people. But these people were looked upon as Communists and were trying to take over the country. SY: So how did you react to that, finding those bodies in the fields? RL: I walked away. I wasn't going to bury them and I kind of took a pragmatic look at it. I said, "You know what, there is nothing I can do about it. These guys are dead. The diplomats are down here trying to effect an election where the people will elect a Democratic president. We're doing the best job that we can to provide a stable atmosphere for this to take place." And other than that -- and I was upcountry, as I say, intelligent gathering. And I will say that the country was pretty quiet. We had a few times where intelligence was -- radioed back. But the people on a whole were wonderful, hardworking people. And when I was the S4 of the unit, I went down to the quartermaster where our food depot was and that. And believe it or not, the doctors would condemn food, the package was open or something. It wasn't good enough for US soldier consumption. And there were no, what I call, rat turds in it or anything else, but it was just sitting there or a can was dented or something. I would police up all these food stuffs and with approval, the doctors said, "No that's OK but we can't serve this to the troops because of the rules." So I gather this up and we had other outposts in the country. And then I would fly up in a helicopter and give the food out to the people. I felt that was something because they were very, very poor. Let me tell you, the country at that time was -- SY: Oh I've spent time there. It still is. RL: I mean trash and everything, you couldn't believe it. Now it's a resort area though. SY: Except where it's not. RL: I'm sorry, but my personal opinion is that there are some places in the world that never improve. Why is it that the -- again, it's the old power grab. Those that have, have and those that don't -- unfortunately. We try to change that in so many places in the world and we've always done the right thing, for the most part, but it's a very tough, tough thing to do. And they can only help themselves. 14 SY: So that's an intense period of time in the DR. And then you come back and then they're like, "Oh, since you had that nice, intense experience, we're going to send you somewhere easy. How about you go to Vietnam?" I'm kidding obviously. RL: That's right. No, no, I went to school at Fort Eustis, had a job there for six months in the educational department doing reviewing training and things like that. And then I went off to Vietnam. On the way over I took a delay in route and visited Japan, Okinawa, and Taiwan because I had gone to school with a couple of Chinese officers who were stationed on Taiwan. I visited with them before I went to Vietnam. SY: Did you have any idea what you were getting into? RL: No, because I didn't know where I was going to be assigned at the time and when I arrived there at Tan Son Nhat Airport, we were getting rocketed and we lived in tents until they made our assignments. And I was assigned as a transportation corps officer to the fourth transportation command, which was working pier operations and that in Saigon. And I was a pier operations officer for part of my tour there. And this was before Tet Offensive. And we had barge sights that were out of town and I used to go by myself with a 45 strapped to my hip and drive like hell. [We went either by the River in a boat or drove to each barge site.] But at that time, we didn't realize how the VC had infiltrated the area and how serious the problem was. I was extremely lucky. I always thought in my career that I had a guardian angel watching over me because there were so many times where it could've gone the other way. And I remember this, just the night before -- actually the night that I was out and did something, which I won't say right here, it was all job related. I was out there alone in the delta and I came back and that morning was when the VCs struck. And when somebody from Cholon, which was the Chinese sector, some of the officers were going out to the headquarters and got ambushed, shot up, they never made it. And all hell broke loose. And I remember that the VC drove the people on the outlining communities into the city. I remember outside the port area, the one street was just -- one night -- was just crammed with refugees just streaming into the city trying to get away from the fighting. And there were a lot of other incidents where we had ships that were sitting out trying to get up the Saigon River to offload and they'd be spending days and days out there because the port was just jammed with ships and we were trying to offload the equipment and everything and we couldn't get them all up. And some of these ships were commercial ships with cargo holes. And they were rocketed and there were gaping holes in the sides and in the upper structure and things like that because they had to travel up through the delta, in a winding river which wasn't very wide to get to Saigon. And those guys, the bad guys, were out there. And we did our job. And I had a very good friend who was a helicopter pilot. And I remember we had to go to Vung Tau one time and we were in a Huey and we had a number of technicians with us and things like that. And we were flying along the delta and we were skimming the delta. We weren't flying high. We were just skimming. And all of the sudden I just hear this whomp, whomp, whomp, whomp and all of the sudden my buddy in the pilot chair, the whole chopper, he was trying to lift it, almost physically lift that chopper to get altitude because we were under fire. And this guy I have a great admiration for. He's been a friend for a good, long time -- got us out of the situation. We 15 got above it all and flew on to Vung Tau. And we got out. We looked and we were just lucky. Again, it's a matter of time, where you are, and sometimes just plain luck. SY: Right place, right time. Wrong place, wrong time. Did you have any -- I know some people had sort of superstitious good luck charms or things they did to -- were there things in Vietnam that you did to just kind of keep yourself safe in your own mind. RL: Nope. I just kind of -- I tell you quite frankly, I remember the presidential palace, right across the street from my billet. I mean the VC were so close into the city and Saigon was a beautiful town. Well let me say this, Tudor Street which was all tree lined, but during war time a lot of bars and bar girls and all that. But a beautiful town, some really fine French restaurants, but when they say Pearl of the Orient, it was prior to this time. I would say after the war, World War II because I don't think there was much damage there during World War II. But it must've been a beautiful country. SY: So when you were in Vietnam, a lot of people, it was an existential crisis for them. It brought on a lot of doubts about why they were there, what they were doing, the nature of war itself. Was that your experience or did you -- RL: I think that you could dwell on that if you wanted to. But I also think it's in the situation which you're placed in. If you're under a great deal of stress, if you're under fire, if your life is -- it might be snuffed out in a minute's notice, that you start to think about it more and say, "Why the heck am I here, God protect me. Let me just get out of this." And it so shocks your system that that images, they keep reoccurring. It's like your memory buds have been lit up and those things keep coming back in flashes. So I think it's all based upon the situation and where you are and what you're doing. SY: It sounds like you weren't in combat directly. RL: I wasn't directly in combat. I could've been shot because of snipers or anything else. But did I have a rifle in my hand and going out into the jungle, no I did not. My job was to ensure that cargo got lifted off of these ships onto barges or any place else and was delivered to the troops. And I did that. When I got promoted to major, then I was, due to a recommendation by one of my instructors at the transportation school, they recommended me for a staff position. And so they moved me -- still in the Saigon port, but I was at a staff position while I was there, the rest of the time I was there. I was there thirteen months. I was given a special project to do and I told the command that I would stay there until it was finished. So rather than twelve months, I spent thirteen months. SY: Do you remember the first day you arrived and the day you left? RL: I remember the first day I arrived. SY: What was your impression? RL: It was hot, steamy hot. We had a tent city. And there were hundreds of troops in a cantonment area at Tan Son Nhat Airforce Base. Planes coming and going. And I wasn't there very long. And then I was assigned to a unit in Saigon where I was working nights. 16 So I would sleep in daytime. So I do remember the arrival and coming off the plane. But going home, I'd have a hard time. SY: You weren't counting down your days? Well no, because you had that special project, so it wasn't like you were sure. RL: Well I knew I was going to stay. I mean I just knew it. I knew that I was going to do this and that was it. It's hard to -- SY: Was it hard to adjust to coming back home after being in Vietnam? RL: I came back. I was stationed at Fort Monroe. And I worked for the training command there. And I was responsible for the training budget of all the service schools around the United States, to include the aviation schools at Fort Wolters, Rucker, all this. And I remember I worked for a guy named General Pepke and his deputy was a General Andrews. Pepke was a two star at that time and Andrews was a one star. And I had a very responsible position because at that time, believe it or not, in the early '70s, they were downsizing to get out of Vietnam and the school budgets were being cut. And I remember the DA staff called me about the aviation budget for our aviation schools. And I worked with two colonels, lieutenant colonels, who became general officers and trying to save the aviation budget from being cut to the bone. And I remember I worked on a lot of projects and was flying back and forth between Fort Monroe and Washington to work with these officers and try to save as much as we could. And that was I think a turning point probably in my career because I had not been selected for the Commander and General Staff College yet, I was a major. Now Commander and General Staff School is very important to you. I hadn't been selected yet. So there was an opportunity there and I was already working on my master's degree, going to night school. Now I was working constantly with a high pressure job and I was going to school for my master's degree with George Washington and I was doing commander general staff work with the reserve unit at Fort Eustis which was about 20 miles away. SY: You were a busy guy. RL: So I was going to school for four nights a week plus weekends working plus doing my job plus doing the papers and studying and doing all the things you have to do. So I was out and that's why I say to people don't ever get discouraged, don't let people tell you that you're not going to make it or you're not going to do something. You have to keep plugging away and rely upon yourself to be good enough to do it. So I have to say that I wasn't married at the time, so your social life goes to hell in a handbasket. See, you have to set your priorities. And there's another thing that Norwich is going to help you do is set priorities and know what's important and what's not important in life because you have to look down the pike. Think outside the box and then see what it's going to be like ten -- 15 -- 20 years from now. So if you want a career, you got to work for it. And they're not going to hand it to you. You go out and get it. You prove your point to them. So all this happened and I finished up my Commander and General Staff stuff, I got my master's degree, and they shipped me to Korea.17 SY: Now at this point you must be tired. RL: Well I'm going to tell you right now, the thing is that you learn something from your education, from Norwich, which is to press on. It's the old thing as can do, I will try, whatever. Can do was my infantry, first of the fifteenth, can do outfit, Norwich was I will try. And those things drive you, especially if you have fire in your belly and you want to go someplace. And you're not satisfied with just sitting on your butt and hoping that it's going to happen. So I go to Korea and I work for 8th Army HQ in Seoul and I'm a logistical staff officer and out of the blue the general calls me in and said, "Oh by the way you're going to continue as a logistical staff officer, but you're now the missile maintenance officer for Korea." That's an ordinance job and the ordinance officer had just gone home and they didn't have anybody. So now I'm responsible and the problem they had with the Hawk missile program which is a Raytheon product was they were getting about 40% reliability. And DA was holy hell on the command. So I had to do something about that. Well let me put it this way, it's a twelve month tour in Korea. And my assignment officer, the big assignment officer from DA, came over and he says, "Hey, yeah Lotz, you're going to the armed forces staff college." So I said, "Hey look, I've been to Leavenworth." He says, "You're going to the joint school, the armed forces staff college, in Norfolk." And I said, "Well when's this going to happen." He said, "Your next class is six or seven to eight months out," after I come back. I said, "What will I be doing?" He said, "You'll snowbird." Well snowbird is that you go there and you do whatever the school tells you to do. And I told him, I said, "No, I don't want to do that." I stayed in Korea 18 months. I worked on the job I did and when I did that, the reliability of the Hawk missile was at 94%. I had done a whole refurbishment program on the other missiles that we had in budget, I had set up budgets for refurbishment, did all of that, and so I came out of Korea with what they call is a dual job efficiency report because I did two jobs in one. And then I went to the armed forces staff college. SY: There you go. And then you get married. RL: No, not yet. I got to school. I went through school. I was assigned to the military personnel center where I was given a job as the lead on women in the army. I used to brief the DA staff. I used to go over there with all the statistics because we were trying to create a model that would determine the grade and MOS and how to bring them in without having big bubbles and all of that, et cetera, et cetera. And I used to go over with these big, in those days, printouts like this and I used to brief the DA staff. And I used to bring these printouts to them and I'd say generals if you don't believe what I'm saying, you can read it. And I drop it on the floor and they'd all laugh. We're talking about two or three stars and they all laugh because they know they aren't going to do that thing. So they were listening to what I was saying, it's the how we were trying to work this. And I wasn't trying to be smart. I was just trying to lighten the load, just be a little levity there. And I was recommended for the Pace Award because of that and I was given a special award. And I met my wife in Washington. My wife, I was trying to get a date with her and she was busy or I was busy. One time I just got fed up and said, "Are you free Friday night? Can we go out?" And she finally said yes. And so her father was a retired colonel infantry which she never let me forget. And we went out to dinner and dancing down in Washington. And I said to her that night, I said, "I think I'm going to marry 18 you." She said she'd never marry a military guy. And she says, "I think you're right." I've been married ever since, the same woman, very happily married. SY: That's a lovely story. So we've been talking for like about an hour and fifteen minutes. RL: And you want to know something? You got more than you need. SY: And I think you probably want to -- I don't want to take up your whole day. RL: No, and I got to get going. SY: Yeah, exactly. So any last thoughts? This was great. Let me -- RL: It's too much, I know. But I'm telling you stories. SY: No, no, you're telling me stories. This is all really important. RL: We haven't gotten to the point where I got to be a battalion commander about this guy, Pendleton, who used to be -- I'll tell you that a different time. But that's the leadership team. There's what you face as a battalion commander. There is where you have distress and strain of seven days a week, 24 hours a day and have to take care of the troops. SY: So when we have more time, we'll really go into that. I'll put a pin in this. So let's pick. So when we talked on the phone yesterday, you were talking about how you think that in terms of remembering war there's this unfair hierarchy where combat stories are valued more highly than other stories. So do you want to speak to that? RL: It's the perception that people have that when you mention warfare, they think of combat because that's what it's all about. You wouldn't have a war unless somebody was fighting. So we focus on those people who are in combat because they're the ones nine out of ten times who get wounded or there's fatalities and things like that. But we forget about those who support the combat troops, the combat service support troops, and things like that, that there's a huge number of people behind supplying and taking care of, the medical people and the supply people and the transportation people and all these people that are supporting the combat role. Even the artillery people, the combat service support, it's a team and we can't forget that there's a large team behind the combat lines that are supporting those in the trenches. SY: And also I'm sure that in Vietnam even though you were behind the lines, you still were in danger all the time I would imagine. RL: Well you were because the way the war was there, you didn't know who your enemy was because the enemy melded in with the populace. And the snipers and the ambushes and things like that that could happen at any time. So you always had to be prepared. The convoys had to be prepared even in the city sometimes, especially during the Tet Offensive in '68, the Tet Offensive. A lieutenant working with us was ambushed and was killed. So it could happen at any time. And there was no front lines in the First World19 War. It was a trench. And you knew those bad guys were on that side and you were on the other side. It's a different war out there during my service. SY: Yeah. What was it like to live with that constant anxiety and confusion? You were there for a long time? RL: Well yeah, but the thing is is that you didn't dwell on it because if you dwelt on it, then you were afraid all the time and you couldn't get your job done and you couldn't function. So you put it out of your mind. It's one of those things that when you're put under stress, you look to God to say, "Make sure I get through this." SY: Were there ever moments when it broke through and felt that fear, like I don't know, going to bed at night or waking up in the morning or things like that? RL: Only from the standpoint of anxiety you might say. There were times -- the night before the Tet Offensive, I had to go to a barge site and I went alone and I had to go through the city across the bridge outside the city. And the Vietnamese troops were guarding the bridge and so I pulled up in my Jeep and they looked at me and I said, "I got to go to the barge site," which was a couple miles away. You had to go through this little village and all. And they looked like as if I was nuts. But I went and this was about one o'clock in the morning. And I went through the village down to the barge site, checked it out, the operation and everything, and came back and at dawn that same day the next vehicle that came into that village was ambushed. Well there for the grace of God, go I. So there's no way of telling what's going to happen at times. And so the anxiety level is there but you can't dwell on it and you do your job. SY: Does your training keep you from dwelling on it? RL: I think so, yeah, if you know what you're doing. It definitely is a big plus. If you didn't know what you were doing, your anxiety level would really be high because then you would be looking in the shadows. It's not that you're not conscious of what's going on around you because your training develops that instinct to look at certain things and evaluate certain -- and quickly and whether it's safe or not safe. So from that standpoint, yeah your training is a key factor into how you react and how you look at things. It tells you when to go and not to go at times. So it can be a life saver. SY: So I interviewed a guy just last month or a couple weeks ago and he was also an officer. He was also a logistics guy behind the scenes, but it was in Iraq and as we know there's no real distinction between combat and noncombat anymore. And he was describing when he came back, it took him a while to realize that he had some of the signs of PTSD. He needed the quick fix. He had the hypervigilance. He was seeking out thrills and things like that. And I'm wondering if -- it was talked about less in Vietnam, especially if you'd come back and function, it wasn't talked about at all. But did you when you came back experience trouble adjusting back into a civilian -- not civilian because you're still in but? RL: Well I think maybe I had a sense of -- I was self-sufficient you might say. I could handle my emotions. I could -- so I'm self-sufficient you might say, not a loner, but able to cope 20 you might say better than others. And because of my background, because of how I was brought up, because of everything, that all contributes to how you adapt and can assimilate all that happens to you in a combat zone when you come back and try to come back into the community. The associations you have with your family, the associations you have with people, how you view the world and everything else, all of that's a factor in what affects you up here in your head. SY: Claire, can you tell them to be quiet nicely? F2: Sure. RL: See that all affects how you look on life. And so from that standpoint I would say that I didn't come back with a lot of anxiety, I came back to a world that was safe, the world that hadn't been effected by war, a world that I didn't have to watch out. SY: Was it strange to like sleep in a nice comfortable and to eat delicious food? RL: No. SY: It just was easy? RL: It was easy. I assimilated right back in. But I tell you, that's based on attitude too. And you got to realize this, you don't always sleep on the floor. You don't always sleep and live out of a rucksack. There were cantonment areas and things like that. In Vietnam it was like they were trying, because the war wasn't popular, is they tried to bring all the comforts of home to Vietnam. So for the combat troops when they weren't out in the field, they could come back to a cantonment area with all -- good food, rest, relaxation, et cetera, et cetera. And they also had the R&R where they could go over to Australia or to Japan or wherever and Thailand. So there were certain things and they tried in Vietnam to try to keep guys in combat maybe six months and then six months in a rural area. So there's all different aspects that you have to consider when you look how a person's going to react when he comes back. SY: Are there any, I don't know -- when you think about Vietnam, I don't know how often you think about it now. Are there smells, images, feelings that you remember, anything that sticks with you? One guy, I read his memoir, he talked about the smell because they were burning poop where he was living. RL: That was up at a cantonment area. We had the outside latrines and all that and they had to do it to get rid of it. A lot of times in the Orient you'll find they'd throw it on their fields, in the rice, and all that. They use it for fertilizing. Well the Germans did too and animal manure was – used as fertilizer. SY: Welcome to Vermont spring. RL: Well you had the old honey wagon. So in Germany they used to pour it onto the fields. And that's why you had to be careful of what you ate and things like that, especially in the Orient. What I remember about Vietnam, the food, not the American but I mean the 21 Vietnamese food. I do remember the time where there was during the Tet Offensive a lot of rocket attacks right across the street from where I was staying and the presidential palace wasn't too far, like two blocks away. The thing was that the rocket attacks would come in and then I remember one morning they heavily rocketed that area and the concussions and the noise you hit the floor, and then I ran outside because right across the street there was a Vietnamese family and a rocket had hit the house. And so this other fellow and I ran inside, up the rubble, actually the rubble, and got into the front entrance because the family had children. And we found the family, luckily nobody was hurt. They were underneath the stairs and they had been saved because they had taken shelter underneath the stairs where that closet or whatever it was saved them. And we hauled them out. I remember that. I remember working in the Saigon port and on the Saigon River. I remember that little incidence where we took ground fire. I remember little things like that. SY: Yeah, I bet the food was amazing. RL: The food was. I thought the food -- Oriental food can be quite good. When I was stationed in Korea I used to eat on the economy all the time. And you'd sit on a pillow and fold your legs and a lot of times they had a grill in front of you and things like that. I liked Korean beer. SY: Korean beer is good. I like Korean barbeque too. So we haven't gotten talk about you being -- you were a brigade commander right? RL: I was a brigade commander. SY: How many people were in your brigade? RL: It was thousands. I was a commander of the school brigade which had all the troops and students for the transportation school at Fort Eustis. SY: And the story you were telling of when you were staying in the World War II barracks and you had that -- RL: I was a battalion commander at Fort Bragg. SY: That was Fort Bragg? RL: That was Fort Bragg, North Carolina. I was commander of the seventh transportation battalion, had a long military history in that battalion. We had the only airborne car company still left in the United States army and that was left over from World War II. And the commander was a captain and he was on jump status because of the airborne car company, that was the connotation of it. And they were used -- that's why I say it's leftover from the Second World War. They also had an air delivery company, quartermaster company, where it was commanded by a major. And they did rigging for heavy drops, meaning vehicles, supplies, everything, and rigging the parachutes, and things like that. And because I had airborne troops in my battalion, my job also my slot was designated as an airborne slot. So at 44 I was still jumping out of airplanes.22 SY: Woah, so how'd your wife feel about that? RL: I had been married two years, three years at that time. And her father had been a 30 year veteran in the infantry, had been in the Second World War and that. And it's part of the job. SY: You were meeting a lot of people. So did you have any leadership challenges? How do you think you did as a leader? Were you the right mixture of approachable and intimidating? Did you think about that? RL: Well I guess if I had to self-evaluate, I was both because my commander expected -- he expected his commanders to be combat ready all the time and to be efficient and to get the job done regardless of the obstacles. There was a certain amount of pressure. Which therefore, you had to -- like they say, it rolls downhill. Now you had to say that at this time we had a volunteer army. Yeah, we were in a volunteer army. We had kids from all over the country. And we had to appeal to their sense of duty because that wasn't an eight to five job. I don't know where they ever got this idea. And the accommodations they lived in were not pleasant. They were the bunks and the World War II barracks, one latrine at the end. And the barracks were not in very good shape because that was the time of the Carter timeframe and they were cutting back on the forces. The money wasn't there. It wasn't being appropriated for repair parts or anything else so your vehicles were down a lot of time. You had to spend long hours to try to maintain and keep them going. And maintenance was one of the biggest problems with keeping the vehicles going, trying to make sure that the troops were taken care, and weren't put in such a state where they couldn't function. And we just did so many different things within the battalion because not only did I have truck company, I had Jeeps, I had an air delivery company, I had a Stevedore company that lifted the boxes and all that. So we had a challenge because we were multifunction, not just one focus. And we supported the 82nd airborne. And the 82nd airborne was -- they had three brigades. One brigade would be in the field and we had to support them. One brigade would be in garrison and we had to support them. And one brigade would be I'd say down, not deployable, they were resting after doing these other two. Well we had to support on a 24 hour, seven day basis, those two other brigades. We never had any down time. And that's why the vehicles had problems because we were running them all the time. And so it got to be a challenge, a real big challenge. But I was extremely proud of my battalion I encouraged my troops to be competitors. Fort Bragg there was very competitive with the 82nd airborne, the other troops there. They had boxing matches. We had combat football. We had air delivery competitions with the 82nd because they had their own air delivery unit. And I would say that my boxers, I reestablished and let some of my troops box, started taking championships. We beat the 82nd airborne in combat football, never been done before even though my commander who was a major at the time and was captain of our combat football team broke his collar bone. And it wasn't too long after that that they outlawed combat football because there were too many injuries. But the fact here is here was a support element, a transportation battalion, that went up against the combat troops, the 82nd airborne, and beat them in combat football, biggest thing. I was real proud of my troops. I had the championship women's basketball team at Fort Bragg. So esprit de corps is a very important thing and you got to give them a sense of accomplishment, not 23 only on the job but also in these other areas. So you try to encourage that. It's a difficult thing. It's a balancing act. It's like you have to keep all the balls up in the air at the same time and you have to learn how to do that. And it's not an easy thing. SY: Interesting. So I have two more questions for you and then Clark has some Norwich questions for you. But I also know time is an issue. My buddy Dick [Shultz?] told me a story. He discovered halfway through that I was Jewish. And then it was all over. He talked about -- he says you have some story about an airplane, it was in Vietnam, almost taking off or something, a Cold War story about if this airplane takes off, we're with war with Russia. I don't know, he remembered something. You don't know what he's talking about or you do? And you watched the plane hover and then it went down again. Maybe this wasn't Vietnam. Maybe this was Korea. I don't know. RL: I don't know. I was in South America one time and I was in special ops. I was Special Forces then. And one of the planes, it was a C123, which was an old prop driven. I mean you never see those today. And it was special ops. And the pilots, we were contour flying. Contour flying means you're right on the deck, bounding up and down because of the air drafts and everything else, and I remember this vividly. I was up with the pilots and these two guys -- you got to remember, air force guys I think are a little bit different than army guys. And they have to be for what they do. And these two pilots were up there just chatting away. I mean it was like they're having a cup of coffee down in the wherever and they were just chatting back and forth and this thing was bouncing up and down, up and down, and all across wise. And they were just having the grandest time. And you got to realize that it takes a special breed to do this. And it's the joy. I mean, I was a young guy and I just had the greatest time because -- and you have to have the competence though. And that's where you were talking about the training and everything else is so important. It's that these guys were able to do this, almost with their eyes closed. But the fact is, it was dangerous, what we were doing. And the helicopter I told you about being shot at and the pilot, as I say, I make light of it. But the fact was, we were taking ground fire and very well that chopper could've gone right there into the patties except for the pilot, again who I knew personally and had great confidence, and just pulled back on the pitch. And that thing, we didn't know if it was going to make it up or not because the rounds were hitting and if they'd hit the wrong part, we were done for. But this guy was just cool as hell, pardon the expression. He was. And that chopper, the vibration, it was just straining to get up over 1,000 feet where we get out of range of the ground fire. There were other things, but -- which one? There was a couple other things. But it was fun because you're young and you think you're invincible. And like you were talking about, how do you feel about -- some of these things you don't think about because you put it right out of your mind. And sometimes you put it out of your mind for a purpose. SY: Training plus testosterone. RL: And you just don't think about it after that too. Some of the things are so emotional that you don't. You put them out of your mind and you don't go back. That's just the way of life.24 SY: So one last question, people talk a lot about the military civilian divide. And you said that they're two different cultures. So you were in the military a long time and then you're retired. And so how do you interact with the civilian world? Do you feel different than the people around you who are civilians? Do you mostly spend time in military circles still? RL: No, when I left the service I never looked behind. And I went 180 degrees, gone the other way. SY: All right, what did you do? RL: I established my own business out of a hobby. I worked with antique clocks, 1700 and 1800. And I found that in order for me to establish a business, I had to go do these high end antique shows. And so I started doing high end antique shows, maybe was doing 15 or 16 a year -- I had a studio built off the back of my house. Business was by appointment only. And I had between 45 and 50 tall case clocks plus all these other clocks and things like that. And I'm down to about two shows a year now. And I used to be driving 40,000 miles a year to do the shows. But it gave me the latitude to be my own boss. It gave me the latitude to where if I didn't want to work seven days a week, 24 hours a day, I didn't have to because I had a young family. And I just didn't want to go back into the pressure cooker. The pressure cooker is what I call, even in my final days -- I had great jobs, one of them where I was the DCS for air transportation in the military airlift command, which is now melded into the transportation command at Scott Airforce Base. I was responsible for all the aerial reports and cargo and passengers all over the world. I had people all over the world. And so one time I left from Scott Airforce Base to the west coast to Hawaii, to Japan, to Korea, to Okinawa, to the Philippines, to Diego Garcia, to Turkey, to Germany, to Spain, to England, and home. So I only say that because I'm giving you the perspective that you can do anything in your military career. It depends on the field you're in. And one time I worked for the comptroller of the army as one of his executive assistants and was also congressional liaison for the appropriation committee with Congress. I worked with the Senate and the House of Representations when I was stationed in Washington. So what I'm trying to say is that a military career is not just one thing. I've had a varied career from combat arms to comptrollership to transportation to a multitude of other things, Special Forces and that. SY: But then you didn't want to go back. You wanted a job that wasn't that intense? RL: Well it was the fact is that that was me. Everybody's different and it was me. And I've been involved with Norwich since I was a class agent. And let me just tell you what I did because this is what I say to the Norwich grad is to keep active. I was a class agent for a while, then I was president of the alumni club in Washington DC. Then I went to the alumni board. Then I was president of the alumni association. Then I went to the board of trustees. Then I went to the Board of Fellows. Then I was chairman of the Board of Fellows. And then I had been a contributor with the Partridge Society and all of that. And I worked with the Colby Symposium for 20 years. And today they just appointed me as chair of the Friends of the Colby, the military author's symposium.25 SY: Cool, congratulations. Do you feel like Norwich -- it clearly prepared you for a military career. Do you think it also prepared you for your civilian career? RL: Sure. SY: How so? RL: I think that Norwich gave me an attitude. You know, it's an attitude and it's a level of confidence. Norwich University was the perfect match for me because it gave me the opportunity for leadership positions. I was the cadre every year I was here. And second it did, it gave me a great opportunity to meet combat vets because of the PMSNT and the cadre officers and that and to associate with some really find people. Thirdly, I met some great professors. Loring Hart was my English teacher. And I wrote an article for the Guidon one time and he wrote me a little note. He said, "Well done, you learned something." Little things like that that were feedback from the administration. Ernie Harmon who was the president at the time, I had met maybe four or five times. And when I was given an award or my diploma and the only other time I met him was when he chewed me out one time really bad when I was a corporal of the guard, and I mean really bad. SY: What did you do? RL: He drove up and parked his Cadillac and was going up to his office and I was the corporal of the guard. We were ready to take the flag down or something. And I didn't see him. But I didn't call the guard to attention or anything. And he just came over and chewed me out for not calling to attention and saluting him. And I said, "Yes sir." And the other time I met him was the time he called me into his office. And here's a good story for you. He called me in. He says, "I got a letter from your parents. They're concerned because you weren't accepted into advanced ROTC," because I failed the medical because of my eyes. And he says, "Do you want to be in advanced ROTC?" And I said, "Yes sir." He said, "Well this is what we're going to do." He told me exactly what he was going to do. He was going to get me my eye reexamined at Fort Ethan Allen and that the transportation would be provided for me and to report at such and such a time. And that was it, bang, gone. I went up to Fort Ethan Allen, went to the doctor there, doctor came from my home town. And he says, "What's the problem?" He says, "Well you got to be kidding me." He says, "During the Second World War with guys that were absolutely blind were in the infantry and they gave them two or three pairs of glasses in case they broke one and they sent them off into combat." So he reexamined me and passed me and that's why I had a 30 year career in the army. And I spent a lot of time, when they said I couldn't be in the combat arms, I spent a lot of time in the combat arms. So I tell these cadets don't give up and the fact is you can be anything that you want to be, you just work for it. SY: Now, Clark you had a question. It was about this canoeing trip right? CLARK HAYWOOD: (inaudible) [01:41:05] that you got to, as I would say, as a young guy, you got to hang out with Homer Dodge. So what was Homer Dodge like?26 RL: Wonderful guy, just a wonderful -- and he had to be in his 90s. All right, I was stationed in Washington DC at the time and I was working in the Pentagon. And I was elected president of the alumni club in Washington. And so my wife and I, we looked at what we could do to be interesting for the group, to bring him in. So I contact Dr. Dodge and asked him if I went down and picked him up -- now he was down in Pawtucket and Camorra, Cremini or something plantation. He had a beautiful home right on the Pawtuxet River, old, old home. And I said if we come down and pick you up and bring you up for the meeting and then take you home. Well that was like two hours down, two hours back. Anyway, he agreed to that. So my wife and I went down and he addressed the group. And by the time it was all finished, we got home at like one or two o'clock in the morning after driving him home. And he invited us to come back and spend the day with him. So we did. Now he was a canoeist. If you read his bio and that, he was a pretty serious canoeist. And at the age that he was, he was still canoeing. I couldn't believe it. And he had it all upstairs. He hadn't lost a bit. He had not lost a bit physically and everything else. And his stature, he wasn't a very tall guy, but he says, "Come on." He says, "I want to go in the marshlands along the river here and we'll go canoeing." So my wife and I got the canoe out and all three of us got in and he paddled us around and showed us all this marshland and things like that. And we just had a great time. And we had lunch together down there. And so that's how my connection with another president, he was president from 1944 to 1950, and then Ernie Harmon came in. And then Barksdale Hamlett I think came in after Ernie. And I knew him. And then it was Loring Hart. And then it was Russ Todd. Then it became Rich Schneider. I knew every one of these guys. I worked with them because of my association with the school. SY: So what about -- you've seen Norwich change a lot over the years. And how do you feel about the changes? Your alumni are sometimes very pro and very anti, it's interesting. RL: Well you have to realize that our society has changed. And when females came into the corps, well that was a big thing. Well at the same time I was working in Washington. And as I told you, women in the army, that's what I worked on. SY: So you did work on that? You worked on making that happen. RL: Yeah. I was briefing the generals. Remember I talked about those reports and I used to throw them on the floor to laugh because this was all the statistics they were providing because we were trying to integrate women into the army in certain MOSs by grade and MOS so there weren't any big bubbles, you see, because for promotion and everything else. And so this was a big thing that the Pentagon was concerned about. And they were getting a lot of court action, litigation. So we were an important part of the personnel system to make all this happen in a logical way. And that was where my commander because of the group I was leading gave me a special award and also recommended me for the Pace Award which was a very prestigious thing. I didn't get it, but the point is that he thought enough of me to recommend me for it. And that's what counts in life is that at least you get recommended for some of these things. But seeing that in the corps, so that didn't bother me at all because I had women in my battalion. And they were some of my best officers and best NCOs. Now I will say we did have some problems with women in the army and that was with -- and the only thing I want to mention here is lesbianism. 27 We did have issues of that. And that's changed too. You got to know what the period of the time was and the problems that we were confronted with which we hadn't confronted before. So they were new to us. So in order to be concerned about protecting troops and everything else, you had to reorient yourself. And that's the most important thing. The issue why I say that is to be able to be flexible enough to adapt to a new change and to be behind it and to understand it and support it. Now if you don't -- there were times where I don't agree with everything that happens at Norwich but at the same time I understand this is a big operation here. It's grown so much that the opportunities for these cadets -- they're busy all the time. All the opportunities are so much greater than what we had when I was going to school. And the other thing is that you've got civilians here too. And those are all different problems that you have to work through so there's no favoritism towards one body or towards the other. And that's why I say with a Colby symposium is that we have to incorporate the civilians as well as the military. So the subjects have to be such as that they relate to both sides. And therefore they interconnect and therefore what we're trying to do is enrich the student's experience. And what I say is think outside the box. You can't be just focused with blinders on. If you do that then you're missing a lot. And you're missing a lot in life too. SY: That might be a good note to end on. Clark, any other questions? CH: Yeah, do you have any anecdotes of any of the presidents that you worked with at all, just funny or anything serious that you learned, like insights from the past? RL: Well Ernie Harmon was -- he'd watch you from his window as you walked your tours and all that. He was gruff. He was fair. And I didn't have a lot of contact with him. The awards, the diploma, and when it was necessary. Other than that, you didn't want to have any experience with him from that standpoint because it might be negative. That's what you didn't want because Ernie, he was a tough guy, but he was fair. SY: Any interactions with his wife? RL: No, none. None whatsoever. SY: I'm reading her autobiography right now. RL: You're a cadet and you're talking in the 1950s. And we're isolated then because we didn't have '89 up here. And that's what I think -- that's what made our class just hang together, the comradery and the fraternities and everything else. And that's why I think even today with our class, we hang together. Maybe it's other classes. It just happens that maybe I'm looking at just my class, but then you went from there to Hamlett who was a gentleman. He only was here for a little while. I think he got sick or had cancer or something and left. So it was limited experience there. But then Loring Hart came in. Now he was my English professor. And I have to say that Loring Hart drew me back into Norwich, he did, because I was in the alumni club, but he says you got to come back to Norwich. And he used to stay with me when I was the president. He used to stay in our home, he and his wife Marylyn. And she was a delightful person. SY: I'm trying to track her down.28 RL: I think she died. She's passed away. Either that or she's in a -- SY: A nursing home? RL: Yeah, extended care. And I'll mention that in just a minute. But Loring Hart was an academician and at the time -- each one of these presidents that we're talking about was the man for his time. That's what they needed. And then of course they outlived their time and so then they bring somebody else. So Loring was the academician. I think he brought people together. He certainly was a favorite of mine. I used to stay with him when I came up for the meetings. That's because we were friends. And that friendship developed after Norwich, after I graduated. When Loring left and Russ Todd came on, Russ and I talked -- General Todd and I talked a lot because I was on the trustees at that time. And he was the right man for the time because of the military aspect, that's what they needed. But I will say this, that Rick Schneider when it was his time to do it -- and he's been here, what, 20 some years. He brought characteristics or elements of all the presidents previously you might say. And why I say that, maybe not in the intensity of an Ernie Harmon, but he came with his military background with the Coast Guard. Second was his finance background, which is a Godspeed because he understands that you can't do anything unless you have the money to do it. And that is a big plus in the atmosphere that we operate in today. He also is able to work with people. Therefore, he's been able to advance the university in certain areas. And he's given them the latitude to do that, where we've gotten more prestigious things that are necessary in a university. Now he's working on the campaign for the bicentennial which he knows that may be part of his legacy is the fact that he leaves the school financially better off than when he came in, which is a very important thing because if we're to perpetuate this for longevity, we need the financial endowment. A lot of big schools have these huge endowments over the years. But you got to realize that in the early years, even in the '60s and the '70s, there was a very small endowment. And there wasn't a lot of money being given. But after that with technology a lot of our graduates have done extremely well. And they've been very generous with giving back to the school. So that's an important element as we look at our history in the 20th century and now in the 21st century is how things have changed from that standpoint. The university's changed because of the physical plant, because of the civilian population. And yet we're still getting great admission in the cadet corps. So the core values of the university, the concept of citizen soldier, has got to be preserved because that's the main stay as far as I'm concerned of the university. And when I came to this school, I had no intention of going into the military as a career. I took business and I expected to go into the business world. SY: And so why do you think you did? RL: As I progressed, everybody had to go in and had a military obligation regardless. I don't know how it developed. It just developed. I was always one of these people who was willing to take on responsibility and I was a cadre member the whole time. I did well at summer camp. And I was involved with all of these organizations here. SY: You were good at it.29 RL: Well I was interested in it. I was interested, like the honor committee and all these committees. But the point being is that I did well so I had the opportunity to -- I was a distinguished military graduate. I had the opportunity to accept an army commission. And I said, "Why not? Twenty years, get my masters, and go out in the business." Well I got to that point where I had my master's and 20 years and I got promoted early to colonel. And I had young kids and everything. I loved the military. So I just stayed in for 30. But how did I get into, it was Norwich. I didn't have any intention of coming into the military like a lot of these young men and women come into the school today. I had no idea that I would spend 30 years in the army. But I had a great career. I had great opportunities, great assignments, and so you look back on your life and you say, "Gee, I've been lucky." But I have to say that I was prepared academically before I came to Norwich, how to study, because the grades are important. And Norwich developed me after that. I don't know what more I can say. SY: I'm worried about you catching your plane. RL: No, no, don't worry about that. I'll catch that plane. I know how to do it. As long as they don't ticket me for speeding. SY: I think we're good. Thank you for coming back today. RL: Well you can edit anything out of that you want. END OF AUDIO FILE
Transcript of an oral history interview with W. Russell Todd conducted by Joseph Cates at the Sullivan Museum and History Center on May 16 and May 19, 2016, as part of the Norwich Voices oral history project. W. Russell Todd graduated from Norwich University in 1950 and was president of the university from 1982 to 1992. In his interview, he discusses his thirty-two years of active duty in the U.S. Army as well as his experiences at Norwich University. ; 1 W. Russell Todd, NU '50, Oral History Interview Interviewed on May 16, 2016 and May 19, 2016 At Sullivan Museum and History Center Interviewed by Joseph Cates JOSEPH CATES: This is Joseph Cates. Today is May 16th, 2016. I'm interviewing General Russell Todd. This interview is taking place at the Sullivan Museum and History Center. This interview is sponsored by the Sullivan Museum and History Center and is part of the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. OK, first tell me your full name. RUSSELL TODD: William Russell Todd. JC: When were you born? RT: I was born on the first day of May, 1928, in Seattle, Washington. JC: What Norwich class are you? RT: Class of 1950. My father was 26. My son was -- I'll think about that. JC: Well, we'll get back to that. Tell me about where you grew up and your childhood. RT: For the first year of my life we lived in Seattle, Washington. Dad had a job with a lumber company out there, getting experience to come back to work for his father, who ran a lumber company just outside Milton, Massachusetts. So I grew up for the first nine or ten years in Milton, Massachusetts, a very nice place, right on the edge of where Mattapan and Milton come together. There was a lot of traffic. Well, just for an example, during that period of time I came up with my dad to his fifteenth reunion, and the difference in traffic between where we lived and what we found up here was considerable. When I got back to school on Monday the teacher said, "Russell had a day off. He's now going to tell us what he saw." Well, nothing came to mind, and I stood and told them that I had seen something they had never seen, miles and miles and miles of dirt roads. Now I live on one. (laughs) JC: Was that the first time you were ever at Norwich? RT: Yeah. JC: What was your impression of it when you first saw it? RT: It was a very interesting period of time. It was just before World War II affected the United States, and many, many people were sending their sons to Norwich -- rather than perhaps better prepared schools -- because they could get a commission. They assumed that everyone was going to go to war, and the opportunity of getting an education and a commission together at the same time really appealed to a lot of people. Our football team got everybody we wanted of great quality. We won all the games in that time 2 frame. And we had some very, very fine people who came back in 1946, the year I entered the university, and they made a big impression on my life. JC: I'm sure. I assume the buildings were the same. There weren't any new buildings between the time that you went and -- RT: As a matter of fact it was 1941 I believe, and two buildings on the main parade ground were being dedicated. One wasn't quite finished, and the other was, and two new dormitories shows you an example of what I was saying, how it was a golden period in Norwich's history. But saying that, the opposite is true when the war ends. You remember that we had, what, 15 cadets come up here after the Civil War. They all got off the train, (laughs) yeah, we don't think much about that. It's happened each time there's been a war. The incentive, or the idea, or the concept of perhaps having to serve didn't appeal to a lot of people at the end of wars. JC: Right. You kind of have a boom before the war and a bust after the war. RT: Yeah. JC: What made you decide to come to Norwich? RT: I think probably that trip did, that and the fact my dad was always talking about it. He would make us on Saturday nights -- eating beans and franks -- to sing Norwich songs around the table. (laughs) JC: Do you remember any of those Norwich songs? RT: There's a good one. What is it? "Oh, My First Sergeant" "Oh, my first sergeant, he is the worst of them all. He gets us up in the morning before first call. It's fours right, fours left, and left foot into line. And then the dirty son of a buck, he gives us double time. Oh, it's home, boys, home. It's home we ought to be. Home, boys, home, in the land of liberty. And we'll all be back to Norwich when the sergeant calls the roll." JC: That's wonderful. (laughter) I've heard in some of the oral histories "On the Steps of Old Jackman," but I haven't heard that one before. (Todd laughs) So when you came here with your father, was that during homecoming? RT: Well, homecoming and graduation were the same period of time. It was fascinating to me. It was a cavalry school. They had all kinds of drills that we went to and watched, and prizes were awarded. People loading up the water-cooled submachine guns on horseback and racing around, then taking them down, and putting in ammunition blanks, and firing -- you know, first, second, and third prizes kind of thing. Oh, yeah, that impressed me. Then, of course, the parades were fun to see. But it took about three days to get through graduation and homecoming as a single entity. JC: When you came to Norwich what did you major in? 3 RT: That's an interesting story. As I said, Norwich was having trouble at that time recruiting people, and I got recruited by the president of the university. We met in Boston, and he asked me all the things I was interested in, and to him it looked like I should be an engineer, and he wanted me to take an exam that would carry that forward. Well, I took the exam, and I became an engineer, and about the first part of the second semester I discovered you really had to do the homework. I really didn't like that much, and I wasn't doing very well, so I changed my major to history and economics. I really found that fascinating. JC: Well, tell me about what it was like being a rook here. RT: Yeah, another interesting thing. I was sold on the rook system, and my dad had always talked about it. When he brought me up here, people would drop off their suitcases, and go right out onto the parade ground, and start being ordered around by the corporal. I thought that was great. I never seemed super. But I didn't have many followers on that. I was very anxious that my father leave, and get out of there, and go home, and I convinced him to do that. But after, oh, maybe a month the class, who had elected class officers by that time, called a class meeting, and we all got together -- I've forgotten where now. "We got to stop this. We got to tell these guys we're not going to put up with this nonsense. We've got to show our power." I stood up and said, "Gentlemen, this isn't what we want to do. We want to put up. We want to show him we can do it," and I got booed right off the stage. However, they eventually made me class secretary, so I didn't lose all my friends that day. (laughs) JC: Now let's talk about post-war Norwich, because you did say there's kind of a bust. There isn't as many people. RT: Yeah, I think we had 200 in our class, and there was no really classes of Bubbas. Norwich toward the end of the war, when they were really desperate to get money to pay salaries to the faculty, had a high-school level. I think it was two years, the high-school level, and many people went into that and came up here, and that toward the end made some income for the university. But what it did for us, as an incoming class of freshmen, we had our officers, lieutenants, who were younger than we were, but they'd been here two years. You know, that didn't sit over very well either. That was difficult. JC: And the cavalry was still here at that time. RT: It was, yeah, for the first two years of my term and tenure at Norwich, at that point. JC: What do you remember about the horse cavalry? RT: Oh, my God. Oh, my God. Well, let's just put it this way. The first person I visited in Northfield when I came back as president was my old sergeant [Kenoyer?], who we hated. He was tough. But on the other hand, we really liked him, and I felt very, very sorry for him, and I really wanted to see him. His son had won entry into West Point, and 4 about two nights before he was to report in he and a bunch of his buddies were in an automobile accident. I think they were hit by a train and killed. Sergeant [Kenoyer?] was never the same after that. He continued to ride horses in the parades in Northfield and that kind of thing. But he was a character. His education was perhaps at the level he was working, taking care of the horses, and taking care of the riding. He was a good man, but, for example, I had a roommate named George Pappas who was scared to death of the horses, and some of the horses knew it. They knew when you were afraid. And old George would step into the stable area, ready to put on the harness, and that old horse would just back him into the wall and lean on him -- oh, you win. Then, of course, [Kenoyer?] would come by and say, "Kick him in the neb with your knee!" Well, no one was going to do that, trapped in there. So George, he decided that he would skip equitation classes, and instead he took 10 demerits for every single class that he was supposed to be at, and he spent his first semester walking around the parade ground on Saturdays carrying a rifle, doing tours. Many things can be said about George. That's a whole other story of absolute wonder. But it was difficult. We only went down once a week actually to use them, but there really wasn't a hell of lot you can learn in one-hour time once a week. But toward the end of the freshman year we were out trotting around in the neighborhoods, etc. I remember one time one of the captains in the Army ROTC program there, officers, Army officers, lead us on a parade, and we went out across the railroad tracks and up into the hills. And on the way back the horses got the idea they themselves would like to jog back to the stables, and we came charging down that hill totally out of control. Some of the horses and men went all the way to downtown before they came under it. I went through the football practice. (laughs) It wasn't everything it was cracked up to be. Now there were some people here, including a classmate by the name of Bob [Bacharat?] [00:13:18] who really was a polo player. He came from Switzerland. I think that's the reason he came to Norwich was to be able to play polo, and we played polo in that time frame with people like Miami who flew their horses up here. Now, I never saw the plane, but we were told all this and a few years earlier, before the war, that Norwich was playing the big colleges and winning. Toward the end of the first year we played something called broom polo, which they'd throw out a basketball on the floor, and then you'd have to hit it with a broom to get it to go to the goal. Those kinds of things were fun to watch. I remember one time George, my roommate, in skipping class went up into the stands, which are on the south end of the hall, but up above in a balcony, and he opened the window and got a snowball, several of them, and put them up there. When somebody would go by, the stove down on the floor -- there were four stoves in that place -- they'd get red hot, but they really didn't make a hell of a lot of difference when the temperature was 30 below or whatever it might have been outside. And the horses, when you'd take them from the stable to the riding hall, would fight you all the way; they didn't want to go out in that cold. But George, on one occasion, dropped snowballs on those red-hot stoves, and you can imagine, they hissed. As the horse went by, this great hiss came out, and the horse would throw the guy, or run for the far -- I went hell bent for election to the far wall. And when he stopped, I went right up onto his neck and was hanging on. Sergeant [Kenoyer?] came over and gave me hell, you know, "You didn't take control of that horse." (inaudible) [00:15:36] There are people lying down all 5 around, and the horses are running around. Well, there's a certain romance in having the horses, so long as you're sitting in the stands watching a polo game. (laughs) JC: Had you ever ridden a horse before? RT: No, never. JC: So you didn't have any experience with horses. RT: Neither did anybody else. Yeah, yeah. They were wonderful animals though, for the most part. JC: Now you said a lot of the people that were there before the war came back after the war to finish up. RT: Mm-hmm. A lot may be too much of an adjective to use, but Alumni Hall was essentially filled with non-married veterans, or veterans who hadn't brought their wives back. Civilian clothes and having nothing to do with the military. The rest of the dormitories were filled with 200 and whatever it was cadets, and the very few upperclassmen like the one I mentioned who came up through the high school route. We didn't have a lot to do with them, and they were very serious about their studies in the classrooms, very serious about their studies. The fraternization took place after the first of the year when we could go into a fraternity house, and I remember the older veterans -- older, 22 maybe -- who were in Theta Chi, where I was, were a remarkable bunch of people and very, very much appreciated. They didn't always come to dinner with us, but they were in the house and participated with it. They ranged all the way from a parachutist in Europe to a lieutenant colonel in the air force. So that's a big gap. But they were great guys who made fraternity life reasonable. JC: Well, tell me about Theta Chi. Why did you choose that one? RT: Oh, yeah, the same old story, the same reason I came here. My dad was a Theta Chi. Why, of course that's what I'd do. This is my father's fraternity, you know. JC: So what were the fraternities like? RT: They weren't too bad. When General Harmon eliminated them, I thought it was the right thing to do, because there weren't fraternities at other military colleges. And when they were started I really believe they were very useful. They were much more an eating club, and since there wasn't a mess in the university in the 1850s. If you look into some of the old records you'll see at graduation time they invited the alumni back to have dinner, and they had dances. They had inter-fraternity baseball and football, etc. We were trying at my time, in my fraternity, to replicate that. It wasn't perhaps as successful as it might have been. It was great fun to beat SigEp in baseball or something. But it was a different part of the university. I remember one time when I was a corporal, and one of the men in the rank under me, in the barracks, was in the fraternity. We get down to the fraternity, 6 and he would give me a hard time for giving him a hard time. It wasn't what I thought it should be, but it was a good time. I mean, don't misunderstand me. Well, it was a fraternity. (laughs) The girls came in by train, if they were away. Carol came up several times on a train to spring break, or a winter carnival, and that kind of thing. That was good sport to have a place where we could party. There was no drinking - baloney, there wasn't. (Coates laughs) I remember one time we were having lunch, and one of the seniors, one of the veterans that had come back, was the president of the house, and he said, "Our Theta Chi member on the faculty, old Professor Woodbury, is going to be our chaperone for the party. Does anybody know Professor Woodbury?" "I know Professor Woodbury. My father told me about him. I've met him once." He said, "Good. You and your date will sit in the living room with the Woodburys while we're down in the basement drinking." (laughter) It wasn't much fun that night. We had the bars hidden behind sliding doors, or doors that pulled down, and all this kind of stuff, so if we got word that there was someone from the faculty coming we could close it up and all sit down, smile, and look like there was no alcohol in the place. JC: Can you tell me a little bit about winter carnival and some of the dances that you all had? RT: They were good sport. Much of the fun though centered around the fraternity at that time. Yes, of course we went to the dance, etc., but before going to the dance we probably went to the fraternity, and certainly after the dance we went to the fraternity, and that was really good sport. In my senior year my roommate, Rollin S. Reiter, from Ohio decided that in his fraternity they were going to have a special Christmas party. Now, it didn't make an awful lot of sense, because it was right at exam time. We took exams right in that time frame, so he really had to work to get these guys. They were going to do it in tuxedoes, not in our uniforms, so that slowed it down a little, too. But one of the guys, Chubby Jordan, who has since passed away, he was a brigadier general in the Massachusetts National Guard later on, an ex-marine. He didn't want to go do it, so they convinced him that he had to do it, and they would get him a date. When he went to the fraternity house, he was introduced to the worst looking girl in the place, and he immediately started drinking beer and avoiding her and all this. It wasn't even the girl they were going to match him up with, and they just were teasing him something awful. When he got very sleepy they put him on the pool table, laid out flat like in a mortuary and put two lit candles, one at either end of him on the pool table. It was a sight for sore eyes. (laughs) JC: I bet it was. Now you were on the rook committee while you were there? RT: Yeah. In my sophomore year I was the head of the rook committee, elected by the class. During the summer period of time I had to get together with the printers and the university and go through this business. There were big posters that said "Beware, Rook, Beware," and then they listed all the things down. We'd get them printed up here by John Mazuzan down in the Northfield Press, and then we'd sell them to the rooks at $1 apiece. I don't know what we did with the money, in the class coffers I guess. Yeah. I remember that President Dodge, who had no military experience previous, but was a very, very well known scientist and had been the dean of one of the big Midwestern schools in that area, 7 he was brought in by some hefty people on the board of trustees. He didn't fit. He didn't understand us. He was a great academic and did some very fine things for the university. But he called me in one day, as head of the rook committee, and said, "When will this period end?" This was right after supper. I said to him, "Sir, it's very clear. It's right on the chart." He said, "I want it to end at Thanksgiving." I said, "Sir, I don't think you're talking to the right guy. You should really be talking to the commandant of cadets, your left-hand man." He said, "Well, I don't know if I can convince him," and I thought, oh, my God, what have we got here, you know. (laughter) He was a fine gentleman, but the minute it was possible for the alumni to discover that General Harmon might be available, in May of my senior year, Dodge was gone. The alumni just -- it wasn't working the way they wanted to see it work. JC: So Harmon was not president any of the time that you were here? RT: His inauguration was held at the same time as my graduation. It was one thing. He had been here for maybe a month, and I remember that we had a football banquet, and they invited General Harmon to come. And he stood up and told us all that he had been here as a cadet, and he had come back in 1935 as the commandant of cadets, and he loved and understood this university, and he was going to make it famous, you know, kind of, "Yeah!" Just the kind of story we needed. Then he told us a story that just curdled me. It was a dirty story. I'd never heard some guy stand up in a dinner and tell a dirty story. It sort of surprised me. He had that reputation. As a matter of fact, one time later in my career, when I was in the army, I was asked by my boss if I would go back to Hamilton, Massachusetts, where I had lived at one time and see Mrs. George Patton, and tell her that her son-in-law -- as a brigadier general -- was about to be sent to Fort Knox, Kentucky. He was married to one of Patton's daughters, and he is now a bachelor. I was to go with three sets of quarters' plans and say, "Which of these, General, would you choose, because we at Fort Knox can now get the house painted up and ready for you, and all this kind of stuff ahead of time?" Well, Mrs. Patton agreed. When the time actually came general orders was late in his itinerary and couldn't be there, so she said, "Why don't you and Carol just come to dinner, and we'll talk about this? I will pass your message to Johnny when he comes through next week, and your leave is over." So that was just fine. But we had a quiet period in that Mrs. Patton was at one end of a long table, and I was at the other end, and Carol was in the middle, and there was a little old maid with a bonnet on her head, and an apron moving around quietly around the room. Everything went silent, and I said, "I can handle this." I said to Mrs. Patton, "Mrs. Patton, do you happen to know General Harmon?" And she said, "Indeed, I do, Russell, and he's a very disgusting man." (laughter) Now as it turns out, she gave an award right after that, she gave an award at Norwich of a similar pistol of General Patton's famous (inaudible) [00:29:38] to the leading cadet. But she was clear. (laughter) JC: Yeah, I've heard stories about General Harmon. RT: He did a great job. He stayed too long, but he did a great job. 8 JC: Well, what clubs were you in when you were here at Norwich? RT: Yeah, I went out for football. I'd come from a little school in Wenham, Massachusetts, where we played six-man football, and if one guy was sick, it didn't look like we were going to play, you know, kind of thing. I went out for football in Beverly High School, and that was danger. I mean, I wasn't up to that. When we got to Norwich I said, "I'm going back out for football. This looks like --" They were mostly freshmen. There were some veterans that came back, and there were some very good veteran players who came back but weren't interested in playing football. They wanted to study and have a family life. So Norwich had a terrible football team during that period of time. About the second day of practice Joe Garrity, who'd been a friend of my dad's who I had known, put his arm on my shoulder as we walked back to the locker room and said, "I've got a job for you." And I thought to myself, I'm going to be quarterback for the freshman team. And he said, "You're my manager, how about that?" and I said, "Oh, OK." Later in life, when I became president, the alumni director here, Dave Whaley, took me out to visit various alumni clubs. In Chicago a fellow named Hale Lait, who played football and was co-captain in his senior year, started to walk up to us, and Dave says, "Mr. Lait, do you know General Todd?" Hale Lait says, "Shit, he used to wash my jock." (laughter) And it was true! We had a big laundry over there. JC: Were you in any other clubs while you were here? RT: Yeah, I'd have to think upon it. We had an international relations club that I became president of at some point of time under -- oh, come on, his name is skipping me. I'll come back to it. But we brought I people to speak on the issues, and then Norwich formed an alliance with the other colleges where we were all working together, and that was sort of fun working that out. Oh, incidentally, when I was manager for the freshman team I had to write all the letters to the other schools and make all the arrangements, all that kind of thing. It sort of surprised me that the university wasn't doing that; the athletic department wasn't doing that. JC: Did you have a favorite professor when you were here? RT: Yeah, and I just told you I couldn't remember his name. (laughter) Sidney Morse. JC: Oh, OK. RT: Old Sidney Morse was a terrible lecturer, but he was a genius, you know. He understood American history, and that was his forte, and he also was a wonderful human being and understood us. He really got me to dig in and start getting decent grades. He would lecture, but he would have side comments on this thing, and there we are taking notes left and right. I never wanted to miss a class under any circumstances. He invited some of us -- one of them being me -- over to dinner, and he was just a great sport. He was not a big man in stature, but a big man in intellect. JC: Was there a professor you particularly didn't like? 9 RT: Oh, there were some who I'd rather not name who I didn't appreciate or think that they were at the level they should be. JC: What was the favorite class you ever took here? RT: I guess it was history. That's what I worked at. Let me go back to what I didn't like. We lost -- somehow, I don't know how -- one of the economics professors, and President Dodge brought in somebody in mid-semester, and this guy had written many books and was well appreciated around the world, but he was terrible. He couldn't remember any names, he refused to take any attendance, so people didn't come. You could answer him back and forth. I was told, I can't vouch for this, I was told by the people that say they did it. They invited him out the night before his final exam to join them for dinner in Montpelier, and when the time came, they picked up the tip, and went down to the railroad station, and put him on a train going to Montreal. (laughter) I believe it was true. But he just wasn't accustomed to teaching at our level in that circumstance. He was someone that should have continued writing his books. He was essentially a sociologist, but that was a while. I got called in by the dean for skipping class, and the dean was a great guy at that time. I was a little embarrassed by it, but the class was mostly veterans in this particular -- in economics. You know, they had their way. They weren't required to come to class. If they didn't come to class it chalked up one of a series you could have freer, but cadets didn't have that, so I just played like I was a veteran to old Mumbles [McLeod?]. That's what they called him, Mumbles. When the dean called me in, I got right back on it. JC: Decided you'd rather go back to class. RT: Yeah. JC: Did you ever get in much trouble when you were here? RT: Not really. I came close a number of times. Well, let me go back and talk about Carol. Carol and I met one time when we were in about the ninth grade. She was in Beverly, Massachusetts, and we were living in Hamilton, Massachusetts, at the time, and the Congregation youth groups met at a third place, Essex, Massachusetts. There were lots of people of our ages. You know, these groups didn't know each other. And I spotted her. She was -- wow! Wow, yeah. But I never got to speak to her before we broke up and went back. A couple of years later in Beverly High School -- we'd moved to Wenham, and Wenham didn't have a high school, so I went to Beverly High School. Todd with a T and Wyeth with W happened to have lockers opposite each other on the wall, and I said, "My God, there's that girl." I went over and spoke to her, and she invited me to her birthday party, and that'll show it all started with us. But it came to a point in our sophomore year when I had changed from engineering into history and economics. I had to make up some subject material that I didn't get in the first part, and I went to the University of New Hampshire trying to make it up. I went down on the weekend to her house in Beverly, and I stayed with her aunt 10 who lived next door. She was on my team. But Carol when we were -- she said, "Let's stop this tennis game for a minute. I want to talk to you." We walked up to the net, and she said, "You know, I'm through with this relationship. You're never going to be serious about anything you do in your life; you're going to be a perennial sophomore. I want to do more with my life than you are going to do, and this isn't going to work out." OK, I'll show you. I came back and studied like hell for the last two years I was here and sort of caught up. But it was interesting, when I was invited back at graduation time to be the officer who commissions everybody, and at that time the university ordered a master's or a PhD, you know, honorary to the speaker. Loring Hart didn't tell me whether I was supposed to say anything or not, so I had in my pocket a little thing I would say. It went something like this. It is indeed an honor to be here. I represent my classmates in this ceremony, and I'm very proud of the way Norwich is moving. But I would like you to know that 25 years ago, this very day, I received a letter from the committee on academic degrees and standings that read to this effect: "Dear Cadet Todd, The committee has met and has agreed to allow you to graduate (laughs) based on the circumstances that were not your fault." (laughter) So, you know, that's the way life went for me. I dug in and did relatively well. But another interesting thing about that. I don't know about anybody else, but I had a picture in my mind of VMI, and the Citadel, and all these places as being superior to Norwich in their military training, etc. But when I got in the army I discovered that 50% of them were duds, and it just changed my life around and my feelings about my institution. Yeah, it was strange. JC: When you graduated from Norwich what was the first -- you went into the army. RT: Yeah. JC: Did you go straightaway into the army, or was there a period? RT: Well, some of us -- I think it was 12, maybe as many as 15 -- received an opportunity to go into the regular army, not into the reserve army. I was one of those. About half of my classmates who were given that ability to do that chose not to do it, so there were a number of us that went. Upon graduation we received our commission in the United States Army Reserve, and then two weeks later I was brought into the regular army with another commissioning thing, which happened to be by my father's Norwich roommate, Colonel [Rice?] in Boston. He was running something in Boston for the army at the time. That was sort of fun. Then I went immediately off. We graduated about 15 or 17 May or something, June rather. On the second day of July, I reported in to the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment Light at Fort Meade, Maryland, as one of these people you had a regular army commission. So there wasn't any time -- there was time enough in between that the family all went down to Cape Cod for a two-week vacation, but I graduated and went into the army. JC: Now did you get married before you were in the army? 11 RT: No, no. No, no. I was still trying to get back in Carol's good graces. Before I left -- well, I went, as I said, to the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment. Now the army was doing something really stupid at that time. They had been told to reduce the army's personnel requirements, and rather than reducing in any reasonable way, they chose to take one-third of every squad, one-third of every company, one-third of every battalion, one-third of every regiment. It was a paper army. It couldn't really operate well at all. But when the war broke out in Korea they took from those drawn-down forces and sent them over as individual replacements, supposedly to go into units that also had the same kind of vacancy that was created now. So we had almost no reasonable training while I was in the 3rd Armored Cavalry Regiment before going to Korea, and these people went into units for which they were not trained. The army was really messed up, really messed up. General Abrams one time in discussing this with a group of officers, after he'd become chief of staff of the army, had tears running down his face. "No army should ever do that to its people. There is no excuse for it, and as long as I'm chief of staff I guarantee you that our units will be ready to fight, if we have to fight." You know, oh. It was a terrible mess over there. So before leaving that unit in which I had a miserable career for that short period of time. For example, it wasn't two weeks later that the post's military police battalion left Fort Meade and went to Korea. Company A of my organization, of which I was a lieutenant, became the post's military policemen. Now, we know nothing about being the post's military policemen, not a thing. There wasn't anything in ROTC, there wasn't anything that lead us to believe. What I knew about policing was I'd seen in movies, and I hid behind the "Welcome to Fort Meade" sign in my sedan, and chased down someone that was speeding, and discovered it was the chief of staff of the post. At midnight I went over and had a bed check in the post's prison, to see that there weren't any knives in there. But I got called in and said, "Hey, come on, get off it. You can go to jail for what you're doing," you know. (laughs) It was crazy. I was trying to do my job as I knew it, but no one was there to supervise me in any way. JC: And how long were you doing that? RT: I left there in September. I went in in July, left in September, and got to Korea in late November, first having leave and then going to the West Coast, going through the checks and balances of travel over there. Just about that time MacArthur announced that the war would be over by Christmas, and as a result the army slowed down the number of replacements they were sending over. This was just about the time that the marines invaded Inchon, and it was followed up with the 7th Division behind them, and trapped the North Vietnamese soldiers below us. It was really a magnificent maneuver. So we were just sitting around in California waiting to get orders. Every weekend we'd go into town, and we'd go into some bar and then talk out loud about how we've got to go, and waiting to go to war, this kind of thing. Somebody would pick up the bar tab. (laughs) Then we crossed the Pacific during a hurricane, and that was something most unusual, as you might imagine. The piano broke loose in the lounge. It had been a troop transport in World War II, and they converted it to be a troop ship but for families to go to Japan or other places. At that time these ships were the property of the army, it wasn't the navy. 12 I remember distinctly there was a captain on board, mostly lieutenants, but this captain on board was a ranger, and he'd a big, puffed-up chest, and walked among us, and told us to stand up straight, and "Take your hands out of your pockets." When he'd get tired of doing that he decided we should have bayonet drill, and issued the bayonets, put them on our rifles, and went up on the deck. Oh, God. I said, "I'm not playing this game." There was a ladder still going up the funnel, in wartime where they had a station to look for submarines, OK. I went up there while everybody else was screaming and hollering down below and got away with it. It's a wonder I ever went anywhere in the army. (laughs) JC: So what was Korea like? RT: Well, let me describe it. We arrived the day before Thanksgiving in Inchon, got off the boat. There was a long, long tidal process; the ship couldn't get close to the docks or anything else. So they threw the nets over the side, and we were to go over the side of the ship and climb down into a small boat to go in. But we had all our personal gear with us. We were carrying great bags of stuff. I had two bottles of whiskey in my bag, and some damn fool says, "Drop your bag into the boat." I did. (laughs) But as a matter of fact, they took our uniforms away from us at that time and said, "We will hold them here, because if everybody goes home at Christmas it won't affect you for a while, and you'll be in a regular army uniform." But we got on the boats and went on the shore. They fed us what was left over from the Thanksgiving dinner, and a lot of canned fruits, put us on a train, and sent us up to North Korea. Each of us, each lieutenant, was on an open freight car, you know, enclosed but with doors on both sides, and each one of them had a little stove in it. It was cold, and we headed north, and every time the hospital train came south on that one track we would pull over maybe an hour before it came by, and then stick around and get back onto the thing. In my one car I had 27 people. Those cars were small. They were Japanese-style freight cars, and they were small. We had nothing but straw on the floor and a sleeping bag, but it was a summer sleeping bag, not a winter sleeping bag, and the stove didn't really heat the thing at all. There were slots in the side of the thing. Anyway. We didn't have any ammunition, and we would get shot at on the train. Now, nobody I know of got hit, but it made quite an impression. But still they didn't issue us any ammunition. There was a major in charge, and he was in the last car, which was a caboose kind of car, tight, a good stove, etc., etc. So whenever the train stopped we as lieutenants would run back and sit in his car with him and then take off again. Many of the soldiers would get off and run in to find somebody in the little town we stopped in and buy rot-gut whiskey. Boy, they were in trouble. One of the people in the car behind me, I was told, went blind on the spot. Maybe he was cured later, but it made an impression. We finally got to the capital of Pyongyang, and they put us on trucks and took us to what used to be a hospital. We went on about the fourth floor and were on cots, or on the floor, kind of thing, and at midnight that night some captain in the army came in and said, "OK, everybody out. Get down on the truck below. Let's go. Get your gear together." Well, we all didn't get there first, and the last of us were turned around and sent back. That batch was never heard from again. The next morning we were loaded on trucks and sent up. But before going they fed us a good breakfast. We went down into 13 the basement of this place -- it was steaming and dark down there -- and we had breakfast on some slate or granite tables. Steam is pouring out of the coffee pots, etc., and I filled my cup with coffee and took a big drink to discover that it was maple syrup. I went forward that day sick as a dog, sitting at the end, at the tail of that truck yurking all the way. I'm sure all those men I was traveling with, "Look hey there, look at that lieutenant. He's so scared he's puking," you know. We went on and eventually we came to a stop, and the captain who was leading this convoy came back and told us to get off the trucks and go into these schoolhouses that were available, right immediately, I mean, just saw them and said, "Take them." We went into the schoolhouse, and he turned around and went back to get "another load," quote, unquote. We never saw him again; he never came back. Here we are with no ammunition, carrying guns, living in a schoolhouse, and the Chinese are moving in on us. They were moving down the mountains on both sides of this thing, and then there was a tremendous, tremendous loss of life up the mountain further, coming toward us. The 38th Regiment that I joined after we got out -- I get the men out, and then I jumped on a mess truck headed south, all trying to find where the headquarters for the 38th Regiment was. The 38th Regiment was part of the 2nd Division, and it lost in about two days, coming through a real tight trap -- there was a river, there was a road that wasn't wide enough for two tanks to pass, and then there was a mountain again on the other side, and the Chinese are up on both sides just raking the convoy. One truck stops, you know, they've got to push it off the edge to get the convoy going again. Now I wasn't a part of that, but I joined the company that did, and when I finally caught up with my unit, it was because I had stopped in from the schoolhouse when I saw the 1st Cavalry Division people pull on in close to us, so I went over and inquired. I walked into the TOC, the tactical operation center, and there was a major sitting in front of a map, on a stool, making little marks on it. I waited a while, and he didn't notice me, and finally I said, "Sir, could you tell me where the 38th Regiment is?" and he turned around and said, "No, but where's the division? Where is the 2nd Division?" I said, "Sir, I have no idea. We're trying to find it. We were left off down here." He said, "I don't know where they are. If you --" It was that confusing. They lost something like 4,000 men coming out of that gap. Now, I wasn't affected, not at all, in any way. I was scared to death at times, but then after that I joined the 38th Regiment. When I went in to meet Colonel Pappal -- yeah, something like that -- he shook hands with one, and passed me a bottle of whiskey with the other one, and said, "Son, you're going to need this." I reported in to the battalion commander, and he at the time was meeting with his staff in a little hutch where the Vietnamese -- the Vietnamese -- the Koreans built their houses of mud and mud brick, and they would cook in an open room attached to the house, and the smoke would go under the floors and heat the house. We were sitting on one of those floors, warm and toasty, and they were passing the bottle of whiskey around this circle as we talked about (inaudible) [00:59:47]. By that time the bottle of whiskey got pretty hot. (laughs) It was a very strange circumstance. When he finally got to it, the battalion commander said to me, he said, "Todd, you're going down to A Company." I said, "Sir, and who commands A Company?" He said, "You do." I had about as much opportunity to learn infantry tactics and lead a rifle 14 company as nobody at all. My buddy who I was traveling with who had some experience in World War II in combat in Europe, came back and went to the University of Illinois, and then came into the army the same as I did, through the (inaudible) [01:00:34], he was sent down to a company that already had an experienced commander. You know. Nobody was thinking. I sent the first sergeant back to division headquarters, he got commissioned, and he came back, and essentially he told me what we ought to be doing. Then we did it. Until MacArthur issued an order, that probably came to him to do it, that said all armored officers that had been assigned to infantry units are to be returned to armored units. So I went down to the regimental tank company of the regiment where my company commander, before coming over there, was an infantry officer who was aide to camp to the commanding general who gave him the tank company in the 38th regiment who didn't know a damn thing about tanks. It was really screwed up everywhere. At a point when I was running the rifle company, I was told that a replacement was on the way, flying in, and he would replace me as company commander. Oh, great, that's good news. The guy showed up, and during World War II he had been in the air force as a bombardier. He had absolutely no infantry experience. He had joined the nearest reserve unit to his home when he was discharged. It really wasn't working out. Where we got replacements, the adjutant would go down and say, "Has anybody been through armored training?" Nobody. Nobody. So there wasn't anybody to send to the armored company except the people that came in (inaudible) [01:02:41]. So we were training these guys, but we weren't -- there were some old sergeants that really knew what they were doing, and that's we made. We eventually had a pretty good tank company. I remember my sergeant was a gruff, old son of a bitch. I walked up to a formation he was holding one day, and his back was to me, and I was walking toward the platoon. And I heard him say "The kid says we got to --" I said uh-oh. "Sergeant [Beach?], come with me," and we went in to see the company commander. I told the company commander that I couldn't resolve this one. He said, oh, very well, I'll assign someone else." Sergeant [Beach?] remained behind. Wow, I've done it. Sergeant Beach comes out. I said, "What happening Sergeant?" and he said, "I'm going to be the lieutenant in charge of the other platoon." Ahhh, God, you know. (laughs) It just wasn't the army I knew later on. Yeah. It was a very sad arrangement. It really wasn't until General Walker was killed in a jeep accident, and he was the 8th Army commander, and they sent General Van Fleet over to run it, and we by that time had moved 125 miles to the rear. We were running as an army. Word got out very quickly that General Van Fleet's orders were "I don't want to see your plans of defense, I want to see your plans of attack." And everyone says, "Sure, sure, General. You look at them, and you'll be all alone up there." Well, by God, he took that army and straightened it out and moved it forward and stopped the Chinese, without much additional support. It was amazing to see that happen. I'll never forget that, that one man deciding that he's going to turn the army around and you'd better fall in line. I did have one experience before that happened when I was with the tank company, and I was in a jeep riding down a road, and the division commander had decided that since we had all these losses, and we're all screwed up, that he had a way to make us all feel proud of ourselves and identify. The methodology he used was that one regiment would have a mustache, another regiment would have sideburns, and another 15 would have goatees. Crazy, just crazy. But I'm driving down the road, and an assistant division commander, a one star, is coming this way, and he went right by, and I saluted, and then he stopped and hollered back at me. I jumped out and ran down to his jeep. He said, "You're not obeying the division commander's orders." I said, "Sir, what do you mean?" He said, "You shaved." I said, "No, sir, I've never shaved." (laughter) God. Yeah. But General Van Fleet really pulled that into order, and he relieved a lot of people. He relieved my brigade commander, gave us a lieutenant to be the colonel's slot in the brigade, who turned out to wind up with four stars in the end. They made the mechanism work. JC: Amazing. Now, you were awarded the Medal for Valor in Korea, weren't you? RT: Yeah. I got a Bronze Star for Valor and a Silver Star for Valor, neither of which I really want to talk about much. I think somebody else would have done better to have them than me. I mean, I was pleased, happy to receive it, proud to wear it on my uniform kind of thing, but there was a lot of that going on to bolster up morale of everybody. JC: Is there anything else you want to say about Korea? RT: I don't know. At the end it was a pretty good experience. When we had gone into a stalemate, we started a rotation system back to the United States, and it was a point system. If you came within a certain period of time, then you could go back at a date specific, so we all knew when we'd be going back. There were points for the kind of job you had and all this kind of thing. It was interesting, I went back to Japan, spent a few days in Japan. When we got on the boat I was assigned -- as I had on the way over -- to a large stateroom, and I think there were 12 of us in it, and up and down cots. It was the same gang I went over with. You know, the timeline of where you engaged in combat were the same for all of us, in different units, and that was really pretty special. Two of them, only two of them, didn't come back, and they were both infantry officers. To the best of my knowledge, from the 38th Regiment that I was familiar with, the lieutenants didn't go back whole. The majority of them were killed. Those that were wounded were wounded seriously enough that they didn't come back to the unit. So it was us armored guys that, essentially, came back together, went over together and came back together. Stopped in Hawaii on the way back, pulled into the port, and there's all these hula girls down on the thing, people with big signs, "Welcome Home, Veteran." I said, "Hell, I'm not a veteran. That's a guy that sits outside the post office trying to sell pencils." (laughs) That came as a bit of a shock to us. But, yeah. JC: Well, once you got back to the United States where were you stationed? RT: Before I got back to the United States, on R&R in Japan, I knew of my rotation date. I called Carol, who by that time had finished her year after Smith at Radcliffe, taking the first year of the Harvard Business School program at Radcliffe -- business school faculty, business school-devised location, Radcliffe. I called her and said, "How about meeting me in New York City on such and such a date at the Biltmore Hotel? We'll meet under the clock." Now, meeting under the clock, there'd been a movie about that whole 16 business. So she did, and we went to my family's house. They'd moved to Scarsdale, New York, at that point. I asked her to marry me. She said, "Give me a couple of weeks." So I went back to visit my family. They're not my immediate family, my grandparents in Quincy, Massachusetts, and my other grandparents in Dorchester, Massachusetts. I went to -- my uncle, my mother's brother, ran a hardware store that had originally been his father's, and he said, "What are you going to do about a car?" I said, "I got to get one." I sold my car before I went over. He said, "Well, I've got a good friend who's honest, and I think we can get a good car." So I went over that afternoon and bought a car and called Carol, and I said, "I bought a car today." She said, "A convertible?" and I said, "Yes," and turned it in the next day and got a convertible. (laughter) I'd do anything to make sure she's sweet. She said yes, we were married on the nineteenth of June of that year, and she obviously had to quit her job to become an army wife. JC: So where did you all go after that? RT: The first station when we returned, and I'm talking now about the same group of army officers that went over and came back together, also went to Fort Knox, and we lived in newly-built quarters that were built by a civilian contractor on the edge of there, which were great for a newly-married couple, but they certainly weren't anything special. George and Joanne Patton lived next door to us, a small world, yeah. I've lost my train of thought here now. (break in audio) JC: And we'll get back started. All right, so we were talking about Fort Knox. RT: Fort Knox being a first assignment together in the army was really great. So different. I mean, Fort Knox was organized. Everything was working well. People were happy. Not that we weren't working hard, because we really were. My first assignment was to a training division. It took the number of the division, the third, and replicated it and then trained, basic training. I was in the 2nd Brigade headquarters working on the planning and that kind of thing. I really was disappointed that I wasn't one of the company commanders, but it turns out that that was a tough job. In the tank company, the guy that headed the tank company had more tanks than a tank division, and it was a mess to keep them all straightened out and going around. So one day I went back home for lunch, and Mrs. George Patton, Sr., was sitting in the living room of our house talking to Carol. She had come down to Fort Knox because George and Joanne had just been married, and Joanne got some kind of disease when they were on the honeymoon in the Caribbean. And I reintroduced myself to Mrs. Patton, and we sat down and talked. She asked me what my job was, and I told her. I said, "But I've got to go. I've got an appointment this afternoon to see the commanding general. They're looking for an aide to camp to the commanding general, and I really don't want that job. I really would prefer to get an opportunity to command a company in the division here." She said, "Russell, General Collier is a very, very fine man. He has a 17 fine family life. He is a very, very successful soldier who commanded the 2nd Armored Division at the end of the war in Berlin. You could learn an awful lot working for him." So I went over, and I got the job, and for the next two years I was the junior aide to the commanding general. I did such things as travel with him when he went to different places for different purposes. My buddies all got a hold of me when they found out I was going to do this job, and all had things they wanted changed at Fort Knox, and I was to be their agent in telling the commanding general how he could change the place. Very early on we went out of the headquarters, down the steps, into the car, went past the post theater. I thought, well, here goes. I said, "Sir, do you realize that on this post now an officer must be in his full dress uniform in order to go to the movies?" He said, "Yes, I know that, and it will remain that way." I didn't have many new ideas for him after that. (laughs) He'd go over to the armor school, and the people that are teaching in the combat kinds of business would say, "This is what we're doing now, General, and what do you think? We'd like your approval of it," and I'd sit in the back of the room and listen to what was going on, and understand it. I would hear the people that had served in combat talk about what you ought to do, and I got a great education. Also, every year there was something called the Armor Warfighting Conference. Twice I was there for that. They bring in all the people that belong to the Armor Association, or were serving in an armored position, all the senior people, and they'd talk about what the army ought to be doing in armor. One of my jobs was to go into the airport in the general's big sedan and his chauffer and pick these guys up and drive them back to the post, and I'd chat with these guys, and it was really fun. I got to know an awful lot of people, army commanders, army staff members, and all this. I really felt pretty special that I'd had this kind of an opportunity. Then we also had at Fort Knox in that time frame an armor board. This armor board, when General I. D. White was the commander at Fort Knox -- before General Collier -- that the chief of staff of the army was not pleased with the way the chief of ordnance was managing the tank program and gave the responsibility to the commanding general at Fort Knox. All the bigwigs gathered at Fort Knox to make decisions about what the next tank would look like, what the next armored personnel carrier would look like, etc., etc. Again, I sat in the back of the room, and young captains and majors, most of them West Point graduates who'd gone off to graduate school and were coming back and using their talents. It was a great, great opportunity for me. We were always invited to the house when the Colliers were having a party, and people would say, "Oh, you're going over there and pass the cigarette butts around with them, aren't you?" "No, we don't do that. We're part of that group." Mike Popowski here in town, his dad was one of those colonels on the post at that time. I really got to know all those people. Not that it was doing me any good, but I learned from them, you know. I learned how to act, I learned when to shut up. It was very useful, and it was a great time. The Colliers were magnificent to us. We had a child while we were living there -- it was Tom, and Tom got burnt badly in an accident at our house. He was crawling across the floor, and there was a coffee pot that started percolating, and he looked up and pulled on the cord, and it came over and broke open on his back. The Colliers came over and relieved us of our 24-hour duty, and they took it over; they sat with that baby. We were their family. It was amazing; it was wonderful. 18 Yeah. I began to really understand what the army was about, that it could be a good army. JC: Well, after Fort Knox where did you go? RT: Let's see. Oh, yeah. When General Collier left, he was to be promoted and going to go to Korea, and he offered me the opportunity to go with him, and I told him that I would much prefer to have a tank company in Europe. While I loved the guy and his family, I wanted a tank company in Europe. He said, "We'll take care of that," and he called up the commanding general of the 2nd Armored Division in Europe, the one that they call Chubby Doan, and told him the situation and that I would be on orders to go over to the 2nd Armored Division and a tank company. He said, "I'll give him a tank company." So, wow! You know, we made it, and off we go to Europe. We pull into Bremerhaven, which is the northern port in Germany, and they send forth a little craft to meet the boat. A sergeant first class climbs up the rope ladder and comes over and starts telling people what their orders are going to be, and I was ordered to something called the 13th Military Intelligence Group. I thought, oh, my God, something's wrong here. The colonel who was in charge of us all on the boat, for the boat trip, he got his orders, and he opened it up, and it's the 13th MIG. He said, "What's an MIG?" I said, "The best I know it's a Russian airplane." (laughs) It turned out that he thought he was going to the 1st Infantry Division for a regiment. Well, we got off the boat, and both of us went down to this intelligence group, went through two different fences, guards posted in towers and all the rest of it, and slept in an open bay area over the officers' club. There were a number of other offices there, and they said, "What are you going to do?" I said, "I don't know. I'm here by mistake. I'm headed to the 2nd Armored Division." They said, "No, no, you aren't. We're all in the same business, fellow. Tell us where you're going." And I said, "No, no. I'm an officer, and I'm going to --" They said, "We understood an armored officer was coming, and he was going to go underground and behind the Iron Curtain, and report on the Russian movements." Holy Crow! That's not for me. So the next morning I went down and asked authority to see the commanding officer of the 513th [sic] MIG. He spoke with me, and he said, "No, you're going down. You're not going to do that; that's rumor. You're going down to the headquarters in Heidelberg, and you're going to be an intelligence officer in that headquarters." I said, "I'm not an intelligence officer." He said, "That's your orders." OK. So I went down to Heidelberg. General Jim Phillips was the G2 at the time, and I asked to see him, and I went right up to his office and told him my sad story, that I was going to go to the 2nd Armored Division -- and he was an armored officer -- "Now here I am an untrained specialist in your department." He said, "What were you going to do?" I said, "Well, General Doan in the 2nd Armored Division had accepted me to come and be in tank company." He says, "I'll talk to him about that," and he reached over -- they had a red phone system that red phones went to the different generals in different locations -- he picked it up and dialed 27 or whatever it was, and General Doan answers the phone, and I'm sitting there. He said, "I got a young captain sitting here that tells me he's supposed to be in the division. Tell me about him, what are you going to do with him?" Well, poor old General Doan hadn't remembered much about the phone conversation a couple of 19 months before or something, and said, "Well, I'm going to make him my aide." And he said, "Like hell you are. I'm keeping him here for that." (laughs) I did it all over again for another two years in the headquarters at [Usera?]. [01:26:32] It was a great experience. General and Mrs. Phillips were a mother and dad to us; they'd invite us to Sunday dinner, and little Tom would crawl around the floor or under the table, and General Collier would feed him peanuts or something. It was a wonderful time, and when the Colliers would take a trip and borrow the commander in chief's train, we went with them. It was marvelous. I saw all of Europe. I knew most everything that was going on in the intelligence field, and it was a great experience with wonderful people. But when he got assigned to go back to the United States, I took the Colliers up to the port to put them on. When I came back, this again on the commander in chief's train, I had the train stop in Mannheim, and I got off in Mannheim. I wasn't going to be stopped again and reported in to the 57th Tank Battalion and for the last year there had a tank company. That was probably the greatest experience of my life. It really was a good experience. We were hard training, we were well trained, good people. In the beginning we had a wonderful commander who was a major, and the division commander, General Doan, didn't want to put a lieutenant colonel in that slot. He wanted this man to get that experience, but eventually they had to pull him and let -- the lieutenant colonels were backing up. So we were out maneuvering and we came to the last day of the maneuvers, and the new battalion commander arrives, and we have this party in a beer hall. The new commander arrives, and one of the company commanders in Charlie Company walked up to the head table with two boots of beer. You know what that is? Glass things that replicate a boot. Big. He puts one in front of each of the two commanders and says, "Let's see who's the better man." This poor guy that has just got off the train coming down from Bremerhaven and crossed the ocean picks up his boot and starts to drink. The battalion commander we love drinks it down and wins the contest, and the new battalion commander was so tight from drinking that beer too fast his feet slipped out from under him as he sat at that table and went right down under the table. (laughter) That was his first day of duty, and he didn't improve much after that. We were all pretty cocky, the company commanders; we were doing a lot of good things. But he knew nothing about it. We told him -- we were told that he had served in a tank battalion in World War II, and that's all we knew about him. It sounded great to us, a guy with some real experience. Well, it turns out that he reported in to a replacement company, and they said, "Take this truckload of men and go forward to point A. There will be a sign on the road at so many miles or kilometers. Turn left in there, and that's where your unit will be." Well, he got down there and made the turn, then went up, and three Germans come out and say, "Achtung! Put him in the compound!" and he went directly to the prisoner-of-war camp. He never had any experience. He'd been a public information officer before, and he was terrible. He was so bad that in a morning meeting every time, when he would suggest something the other three company commanders, we'd sort of nod or shake no. And "Well, what's the matter?" You know why? We didn't get any leadership out of him at all. When it came time to leave there, I had probably the most frightening experience in my life. He stood up in front of the entire battalion officer group and said, "Well, now that Captain Todd is leaving maybe I can take command of this battalion." Oh, my God. 20 Oh, my God. He gave me an efficiency report that would sink anybody, but it just turned out that in that moment of time the army changed the efficiency report system whereby your commander rates you, and his boss rates you, and then a third person rates what they did. Well, the third person turns out to have been the fellow that had been recently the brigade commander, and he knew me, he knew my performance, etc., and he sent back the efficiency report to be redone. Ho. (laughs) Yeah. Those were good times though, good times. Scary times, but testing, really testing you. JC: Because you were right there in Germany during really the height of the Cold War. RT: Yeah. As a matter of fact, one time we were out on maneuvers, 200 miles from our base, when the French and British moved into Suez, because the Egyptians said they were taking over the canal. There we are sitting out in the woods saying, "Oh, my God," because the president had said, "Oh, no, you don't." Eisenhower said, "No, you don't. You can't do that. We give you a lot of money to bring your economies back from the war, and we'll stop it tomorrow unless you withdraw." But we didn't know all that, and my guys are saying "We're going to gyro to Cairo," you know, that (laughter) kind of stuff. We finally came back. But if we'd had to go, I haven't seen a unit that would be any more ready than we were. Yeah. It was really a great exper-- In a company command, everybody doesn't have to bypass the battalion commander who's a dud. But when you do have to do that, then you're really thinking on your feet. It was great. JC: What was your next assignment after that? RT: Would you believe back to Fort Knox? JC: Oh, really? RT: Yeah. I went back there to go to the Armor Officer Advanced Course, which was a nine-month course in there, in which they were teaching you at the next level. Now the course we took before at Fort Knox was a course we should have had before we went to Korea. I came away with a great impression of how good that was. It was excellence. When I saw General Collier working with the instructors and telling them how to handle this kind of thing. When I came back three years later, it was a well-organized organization. In fact, General Abrams had been there as the head of the command department. It was a first class education. I really and truly look back upon my Norwich experience as not up to that standard that the army was producing there. At the end of that course I had talked my way into becoming one of the instructors in the command department, and I was thrilled to death about that. On graduation day I'm sitting in my chair on the aisle, and as the assistant commandant went by my seat he stopped and said, "You're going to be working in my office." (laughs) So I then worked for Colonel Chandler, who was a first-rate soldier. He had been horse cavalry, in the Philippines, and was on the Bataan death march. He was really very much a gentleman, very much strong willed, and very much of a tutor, and I worked out of his office. My job was to arrange the schedules of the classes, and we had all kinds of classes -- enlisted classes, officer classes -- so that they would mesh how 21 many people, how many classrooms do we need, how many instructors do we need, on what day are we going to do it? I was bringing home page after page of long paper, and on the kitchen floor working out the details of making this thing work. It was great, but, again, there was an intermediary. There was a lieutenant colonel who was my immediate supervisor who, again, I thought to be a dud. On my first day of working there he said, "That's your desk right over there." And I'm, "Yes, sir." I went over to my desk. Now what do I do? Here I am, I found my desk. There was a major sitting at a desk facing me who never looked up. He was just scribbling away, scared to death of this guy evidently. A few minutes later he came over and said, "Well, here's the first project I want you to do. This is it. I want you to study this, and then rewrite it, and we'll discuss it." Fine. It wasn't five minutes later, he came over and said, "No, I want you to do this one instead." I went through about six of those before I understood what I was doing. I was hopeless that anything was really going to happen. That same day he came over and looked over my shoulder, and I looked up, and he said, "What are you writing there?" I said, "Well, sir, I'm writing myself a note so that I will be able to put these things in the appropriate order." He said, "Well, you're not saying it very well." (laughter) It was awful. My out was Colonel Chandler, and a major got assigned to the office, and he very quickly understood what was going on here and went in and talked to Colonel Chandler, and Colonel Chandler moved him out. Again, we got a very, very fine operating organization going. It was good; it was very successful. But, you know, every time there's some kind of a roadblock in your career, you've got to stop and figure out how the hell you're going to get around it. JC: What was after Fort Knox? RT: Twenty more years of -- let's see. I graduated from Fort Knox. I was selected below the zone for a promotion. Do you know what that means? JC: Uh-uh. RT: When you're considered for promotion a board meets in Washington, and everybody whose career appears between this date and this date is considered. Isn't that right? Well, what they started, and I don't know if they're still doing it or not -- I think they are -- they would go below this zone and choose certain people to be examined with this group, and I was lucky enough to do that and really jumped ahead. In the headquarters there was Major Howard from Norwich University. Major Howard didn't graduate from here, but he was an instructor when I was a student here. He was in another department, or I didn't see much of him. But when I came out on the below-the-zone list, there were two of us at Fort Knox that came out on it, and he called me on the phone, and he said, "Well, I thought Frank would make it, but I never thought you would." (laughter) So things are weird, but Leavenworth was an exciting time. I was a captain. The majority of people were majors and lieutenant colonels. A real shock of my life in the first day was seated at tables, and there's a blank card in front of you, and the instructor said, "Now write your name on it, not your rank. Write your name on that card." Well, the guy sitting opposite me was a lieutenant colonel, and I was a captain, and I don't know his rank. What do I call him? We were all calling each other by their first names 22 rather than you find in a unit. That (inaudible) [01:41:04] like that, I'm up against it here. So I worked hard, harder than I've ever worked, and at the end of the halfway mark in the course they gave us standings of where you stand in the course, and I was number five or something. I said, "I'm working too hard." Yeah, that was good, a good period in our life. We had Saturdays and Sundays off. I had a little golf group I played with on Saturdays, and Michelob beer was local out there. We'd buy a pitcher -- the loser would buy a pitcher of beer, and that was a big deal. That was a big deal. JC: So when did you go to graduate school at the University of Alabama? RT: Strange you should ask that. When I came to the end of the course at Leavenworth a general officer, a brigadier general, came out to the course to announce to the armor officers, to the infantry officers, etc., what your next assignment would be. About the third name he read was a good friend of mine, and when he read off where he was to go this guy went "Ooohhh." The general looked down at him and said, "What's the problem?" He said, "Sir, I don't think anybody in your office ever read my request." "Oh." He said, "Major so-and-so, come out here." The guy comes out from behind the curtain with a big notebook, and the guy flaps through it, and he looks down, and he says, "I don't know what you're complaining about. It says right here, 'Anywhere in the world but Fort Knox.' And you're going to Fort Knox, your second choice." (laughter) Then he got to my name, and he said, "I want to see you right after this." I thought, oh, God, what now? So I went in, and he was in his office. There was a temporary office. And he said, "We've got a problem here," and I said, "Sir, what is it?" He said, "Well, they've got you going to graduate school, and as the chief armor officer I want you to go to an armored unit." I said, "I have a choice?" He said yes. I said, "Where will I go if I go to an armored unit?" He thought for a minute, and he said, "You'll go to the tank battalion in Hawaii." I said, "Can I discuss this with my wife at lunch?" and he said, "Sure," and I came back and said, "We have decided that we're going to go to graduate school," and that's how that worked out. JC: So you went to Tuscaloosa instead of Hawaii. RT: Yeah. (laughs) JC: Now, what degree did you get at Alabama? RT: MBA. It was a good tough course, but it was in the process of changing the curriculum of business schools, and some of it was very tough. Part of it was very simple, but some of it was very tough. I established a schedule where I went in very early in the morning, got in there before 7:00 every morning, went down to the basement of the library where I had an assigned carrel and started working until it was time for a class to begin. I'd go up to the class and go back to the basement, eat my lunch in the basement, go home at 5:00, and hardly ever did any midnight work at home. We lived a good, wonderful family life in Tuscaloosa. Now, it wasn't all easy. There had been the problems of the colleges not admitting blacks, and the president of the United States pushing hard to make them do it. 23 Then there were the riots at Ole Miss, right at that time. The army sent down its chief person who determines whether the applicants will go to college -- army applicants -- and to which college they will go to. So we all gathered, and there were people taking nuclear physics, and [we have to?] discuss with him, and he talked it back and forth, etc. Finally one young captain in the back said, "Sir, this is all very interesting, but the army's practically at war with our citizens. What the hell happen-- What do we do? What are our orders, and what are our instructions here at the University of Alabama, if the same kind of thing breaks out on this campus?" This poor old duffer who'd been the president of some college someplace sort of shook his head and said, "Well, I hope you'd be on the side of the government." (laughter) That hit right in the heart of soldiers. But it was a good program. When I left I was going to be assigned to the headquarters in US Army Europe in the comptroller's office, and you're required to stay in that position for three years to make up for your being chosen for that job. They want to use your knowledge and experience. Just before I left they changed it, and I went to the US Army Support Command in France, which had 57 separate organizations that it commanded, to include a pipeline that came in at St. Nazaire and went out to all of the air bases and army refueling, etc., and repair of tanks, repair of everything. We took German factories over, used Germans. It was a very, very exciting assignment in terms of technology, but I got assigned to the comptroller's office in that damn headquarters, and I was one of three soldiers. The rest were all civilian employees, or French. One of the people that worked for me was from Yugoslavia; he'd escaped Yugoslavia. So it was a mixed up kind of place. We lived at a French house down by the railroad station. We didn't want to live in the government quarters, we'd done enough of that. We wanted to have an experience in France. From that point of view, it was wonderful. The job was terrible, just terrible. They expected me to know everything that they did in their routine because I'd been to this business program. Well, I had to really move fast to catch up with them. My boss was a man by the name of [Birossi?]. He'd been an Italian-American soldier in World War II who married an Italian and never went home, and when they created the support command then he stayed on in Europe and became a very important man in the headquarters as the budget manager of this very vast organization. I worked like hell to try and get it straightened out. They first gave me the responsibility of working the budget of a couple of the major organizations, one the tank rebuild plant, which was -- God, it looked like General Motors out there. I finally got frustrated with it all. We'd all sit in a room, roll out our papers, and bring in the guy, the comptroller, from that organization, and you'd sit facing each other with Mr. [Birossi?] looking over your shoulder, and you'd work out a budget for them. How the hell did I know? I didn't have any basis for doing it, but we'd discuss it to get it. When this was all over and calmed down I said, "This is stupid as hell," to [Birossi?]. He said, "What are you talking about?" And I said, "We've got the world's best information technology program right in this headquarters, those guys that are working the plants do it all by technical means, punch cards, and here we are sitting around trying to argue about a number on a sheet of paper that doesn't mean a damn thing." He said, "What do you suggest?" I said, "I suggest we go to talk to them, get onto their system somehow, and work this thing out that we can make a reasonable stab at it." He said, "OK, wise guy, do it." 24 Now, there was a lieutenant colonel in this overall office who was Birossi's boss, and I went to see him and told him, I said, "Now, I'm not competent to do this. There's no question about it. However, if you give me two of those young captains of finance that work down the hall from me, I can get this thing started and going." So he assigned these two guys to me, and we changed the whole system of how we did the budgeting of US Army Europe. I got some kind of an award for that. Then they put me in another job where I had all kinds of stupid responsibilities. I had a responsibility for efficiency of each of these many, many organizations, and I got permission to send people -- Frenchmen -- back to the United States to be trained in each of those depots to do it. Then we pulled all of this together right as the secretary of defense had initiated a program to improve work force relationships, his program, and they sent it out and said, "Everybody in the army, navy, and the air force will use these procedures." And my two-star boss said, "No, we won't. We're not doing that. We got a god system, we just got it started, and, well, that's the way it will be." OK, you're the boss. So six weeks later, maybe two months later, there's a message sent to the commanding general that said "We're sending over someone from the Department of Defense to look at your program." I got called in to the CG's office, and he said, "You got two weeks to put this program in place." Well, you know, I was put into a position where I got attention, and I could do what I wanted to do, and I could get help to do it, and everything just sort of worked together. It was a great experience. But, again, it's a case of speaking up and saying what you think is wrong and finding a way to do it. I went in on the train from Orleans into Paris to the IBM plant with boxes of punch cards in my (inaudible) [01:53:43] and brought them into IBM, and we worked it out with them to do it at first before we turned it over to our own organization. That's because if we screwed it up, we'd screw them up badly. But those two finance captains did all the work. I just plowed ahead. Another time, in that same job -- I really thought -- when I got there I said, "My career is ruined. My career is ruined. Who's going to believe that I was in a damn headquarters for a support group? No, uh. I'm an armored guy. No." But anyway, they came up with another program, again, out of the Department of Defense. This time it was to work specifically with -- I can't remember the name of it, but, again, it came out of the secretary of defense's office, and again I got the job to do it. But this time I had an opportunity to start from the beginning with it. It was a matter of saving money, and we were supposed to put out programs, out to our subordinate units, and help them find money and other ways of doing business (inaudible) [01:55:09]. We started with the laundries, a simple thing, and went into the laundries with the people we trained, and they would say to the laundress, "How can you do your job better?" They'd say, "Well, I've been working at this for six years. If we did this, and that, and the other thing," and all of a sudden we weren't doing anything but saying "How do you do it?" and then helping them do it, and getting their boss to agree to it. Well, then you had to take all this information and turn it over to another agency who would check your figures, and numbers, and back and forth, and everything. That all seemed to work out, and things were going along rather well when they put me in for an award as the civilian of the year for product improvement. I was called (laughs) into Heidelberg, and they put on a parade, and the commanding general and I are -- there were other people, for other reasons, being recognized that day. I'm standing 25 beside the commanding general when the troops are passing in review, and he said, "What the hell are you doing here? This is a civilian award." I said, "Sir, you signed it." (laughter) And off we went. I just kept working. Living there was great sport, except the French are crazy. We lived in a neighborhood, as I said, on Rue de la Gale, and the house was an old one. It was rent controlled, and we had to slip the landlord money on certain days, and you'd walk up to his house with a paper bag full of money. A door would open, a hand would come out and grab the paper bag out of your thing, the extra money for the -- crazy. In the neighborhood we never made close friends except in one instance. Our youngest daughter, Ellen, went to French school. The other two kids refused; they were smart enough not to do it. Ellen and her friend [Pascale?] (inaudible) [01:57:36] walked to school with her mother and Carol, over to school. The ladies walked back from school. After lunch, walked over, back to get, march them over, again, at the end of the school day. And they talked, and they talked, and they talked. Not a single word of English was ever spoken for three years between these two women. We get back to the United States and got a very nice letter from her, in English, and she said, "You never would have improved your French the way you did if you knew I had been a nanny in Great Britain and speak English." (Cates laughs) Now, that's the dirtiest, rottenest trick I can ever imagine happening. (laughter) When we had a problem with the house, you'd try and go out and find someone that would fix the faucet. Now, there are four sizes of pipe, and there are 12 sizes of faucets, and there are 14 sizes -- and they ask you which one do you want? You don't know. So somebody has to come and measure it and go back, and two days later you've got water running again. When it came time to buy coal, we went down to the place you buy coal, and it was a storefront on the main road, right in the main store, and he's got little glass canisters with different kinds of coal in the window. You don't buy coal that way anywhere else in the world. We went in, and he wanted to know how many radiators we had in the house, and how many veins each radiator had, and how many sections were in the stove, and then he could figure out how many tons it would take to heat the house. He didn't ask if there was any broken windows, or open doors, or boards off on the roof. They did it totally unscientific. Then when you come to that decision, then they say, "Now do you want it from Belgium? Do you want it from --" you know, down the list. We want anthracite from Belgium, OK. Then they come and dump it in the house with buckets in the window of the cellar, and the whole house is covered with coal dust everywhere. And it was expensive. Living there was not easy, but we made a pact that we were going to go once a month with the kids to Paris, every time, every month, and we did, and we traveled a lot. Not any great distances, but we loved parts of France. But the French were very difficult to live with. JC: Oh, I'm sure. I've been there once. (laughs) RT: The worst one was my father had a cousin who was, in relationship to Dad, it was about six up from him in the corporation, and he was the chairman of the board. We got a call that he was coming to visit the French company that was owned by the American company, and they were going to come down and see us in this hovel (laughs). And just about the time we knew that they were coming but not exactly when they were coming, 26 the French left us with a bit of a problem. When they put in the sewer system, they left the septic tank in the house, in the basement, made of clay, and it began to leak. Do you have any idea what living in that house was like? You couldn't flush a toilet. When I'd go off to work and leave Carol, they had a deal with these crazy guys coming in, and eventually they came in. One guy came in, and he took off the top of this thing, and then he went away. She chased him down, and he said, "Oh, you've got to hire somebody else. The union won't allow me to put the hose down in here and suck out what's left. You've got to find that guy." And it went on, and on, and on, and trying to live in that house. Fortunately we got it cleaned up before Uncle George showed up for lunch. (laughter) JC: Sounds like it was quite difficult living in that house. RT: It was very difficult. Every single day one of us crossed the street to the bakery that was directly across the street from us, and we'd order a demi pan, and bring it back for breakfast, or something else. And every single day that one of us went, my own experience was I'd walk in the door -- "Bonjour, Madame." (laughter) The only guy that spoke to us lived next door, and the reason he spoke to us was that nobody else in the neighborhood, or the town, or the city would speak to him, because he had been a butcher during the Nazi occupation and gave the Nazis all the best cuts of meat. We had no phones. It took three years to get a phone, and it was a three-year tour. If you got a phone, you had nobody to call; they'd all gone home. They're crazy, just crazy. (laughs) JC: So what was the next assignment after France? RT: Well, while in France the Vietnam War broke out, and people lieutenant colonel level in Europe were being pulled back to the United States and given a command in Vietnam. So I applied to get a command in Vietnam, and they said, "Oh, no, no, no, no, you haven't finished your tour for having gone to graduate school. You can't possibly go." This is talking to somebody back in Washington. Then another job opened up, and they needed a lieutenant colonel in an armored battalion, and I called them back again. I said, "I'll come back to this job after that. How about that?" "Nope, we can't do that. We can't do that." Eventually they said, "OK, when you come home from --" I put enough pressure on them. "When you come home from France, we'll send you to Vietnam." And when we came home from France, they said, "No, you're going to go to the Armed Forces Staff College. You've been selected among the army, navy, and air force to go to the Armed Forces Staff College, for six months. After that, we'll get you a job that will get you to Vietnam." Well, you know, it's frustrating, just terribly frustrating. After the Armed Forces Staff College they told me I would go to Vietnam, but first I would go to pick up 57 tanks that had just been manufactured of a new design, and I was to form the tank battalion in the United States, train it in the United States, and take it to Vietnam. When that day came, ready to go, we had three rounds blow up in the chamber back at Aberdeen Proving Ground, and they said, "Hold it. You're no longer on the list to go. But you are going to go to the Naval War College." I couldn't get to Vietnam! It was very difficult. 27 JC: What was the Naval War College like? RT: Terrible. The Naval War College, well, we called it the sleeping room. They had two major speakers every day, one in the morning, and one in the afternoon. That was fine. I mean, I loved to hear them, and they did have a message, but it wasn't work. It was sitting there like you're turning on the television. There was no challenge to this thing at all. Now you could go and get a master's degree along with it from George Washington, but I couldn't, because I had a master's degree, so they weren't going to let me take that program. So they hired somebody the University of Massachusetts had fired from their Economics Department, an old man, to be my mentor and take me through a separate program -- nothing comes out of it other than a dissertation at the end. OK, I'll put up with it, but he was awful, and it was a waste of my time. You never had time between these people to really go to the library and do something. It was 20 minutes. What can you do in the library in 20 minutes? No, you don't. Everyone went and get good coffee, sat around and talked, etc. Oop, time to go back into the bedroom. There was nothing going on in terms of substance in the place. When I had my first time as directing my little group, I worked long and hard on the assignments, and came in the next morning and said, "OK, let's see. Now we had readings in this one, and then we had a differing opinion from this requirement, and then this one, and another one. Commander Jones, what do you think about this?" "Oh, shit," he said, "You don't think I pay any attention to that, do you? I'm in the George Washington program. I'm not going to do any of this." That was a general attitude. There wasn't any depth to what we were doing. One day the admiral in charge, who'd married a British lady and had just come back from another tour in London, said, "How would you like to have lunch at my house with a guest speaker, Todd?" I said, "Gee, that would be very nice, sir." I got up there to discover there were 12 or 13 of us at separate tables and he and the speaker was at another table. What did we do? We sat around and chatted, and ate his food, and left. He said, "How'd you like that?" I said, "What are you referring to, sir?" He said, "Well, the opportunity to be with the speaker." I said, "We weren't with the speaker. You were with the speaker." "Well, how would you handle that?" "I'd put in a round table, and we'd all sit around and talk." "What a great idea." Really, really bad stuff. So he did, and then he invited me to come, and I went, and he said, "How did that go?" I said, "Sir, that was wonderful. But if you did that in the classrooms it might help, too." "We don't have round tables in the classrooms?" He'd never been in a classroom. We didn't have one single naval officer who was nuclear qualified come to the course. They sent them to the National War College. We didn't have one single graduate of a senior college who was on the faculty. I could go on, and on, and on about how bad it was. But one day, in Vietnam, I was sitting at my desk outside General Abrams's office, and I got a call from the naval head in Vietnam. I'm trying to think of his name. I know it as well as I know my own. But anyway, he called me and said, "Russ, I got to see General Abrams." I said, "Well, he's tied up at the moment. Come on up and sit down, and I'll get you in just the minute I can break into it." He said, "Good," and he came up. We sat there, and he said, "I got to talk to General Abrams. They're going to announce this afternoon that I'm the new chief of naval operations, and I don't want him to hear it from anybody else but me." I said, "Oh, have I been waiting for this." He said, 28 "What are you talking about?" I said, "You can do something about the Naval War College that I couldn't," and I laid it out for him, and he fired the guy when he got back there. This is Zumwalt, Admiral Zumwalt. He fired the guy and changed all the programs. I mean, they were tough on him, and they've got a good school there now, or at least the last I knew of it, a very good school that has been accredited. But it was awful. JC: Did you finally get to Vietnam after the Naval War College? RT: Yeah, that's why I was sitting in General Abrams's office. I was to be sent over to be on the command list, which meant this list of people the army feels are capable of doing a job as colonel in a combat unit. They sent my name over, and then they called me back and said, "We've withdrawn your name." (sighs deeply) I said, "Come on, guys. This isn't fair." He's "Hold it, hold it, hold it. They're looking for an assistant to General Abrams, and we've sent your name in." I said, "Look, I've met General Abrams a few times. I don't think he was very impressed with me. I don't think he'll select me off of any list of yours." He said, "There is no list. We only sent your name." (laughter) So I went over there, and I sat for, oh, eight months I guess in General Cao Van Vien's office, who was the head of the Vietnamese armed forces, and I acted as a liaison between General Abrams and General Cao Van Vien, of which there was no requirement. Those guys talked to each other whenever they wanted to. But I represented General Abrams when General Cao Van Vien called the other -- the Koreans, the Australians, the New Zealanders, etc., etc. -- together on a Monday morning to have a meeting, and that was interesting, and I learned a lot, and I met a lot of people. Eventually the secretary of the staff rotated home, and I took his slot. You actually work for the chief of staff, but I read and decided which messages that came in that night would go into General Abrams the next morning, so I got to work very, very early and stayed very, very late, day after day after day, seven days a week. But I really loved working for the guy. Every Saturday morning we would meet with the commanders of the army, navy, air force, etc., the CIA, in the basement of our building, and it was general so-and-so, admiral so-and-so, etc., and Colonel Todd. And Colonel Todd sat in the back of the room and checked -- again, a great learning experience. Watching the interrelationship between these very, very senior commanders was a great experience. Then I went with General Abrams every Monday morning down to brief the ambassador. We'd drive down in his sedan. On Sunday I'd prepare a book for him that he'd go over, and then he'd have that in front of him. He never read it. He never sat in front of the ambassador and read it. I'd be on pins and needles all the time that he'd turn to me and say, "What the hell's this?" (laughs) But he was great. Then I got a command. I left the headquarters and went out and joined the 24th Division as a brigade commander, and I'd been there about eight days when it was announced that the brigade was to go home. (laughs) The next day I got a call on the radio, out flying around in my helicopter -- I had seven battalions in the brigade at the time -- from the corps commander, General Davidson, and General Davidson said, "Meet me at coordinates so-and-so," and we both flew into a point. He said, "I'm pulling you out of this. I've got a problem with the Royal Thai Army. The officer we have working 29 with them is not acceptable any longer to the Royal Thai Army. I need somebody tomorrow, and you're it." That was the craziest thing I've ever been involved in. Wonderful, wonderful Thai commander, who began his military experience at age five in a military academy run by the government. He finished his education in France. The French owned Indonesia. Thailand (inaudible) [02:16:30]. So there we were. Day in and day out, he and I would receive the same briefing. He'd get it in Thai, and his aide-de-camp would give it to me in English. We never ever, ever came to the same solution. We were generations in thought apart. For example, in World War II Thailand never declared war on anybody, but went to war against the Allied forces when they thought Japan was winning. This fellow was a captain in the Thai Army, and he did something very spectacular -- whatever it was, I don't know, very heroic. He was called back to the capital, and he was given the Royal Order of the White Elephant or something. They'd give out five for every war. This was something very, very special, parades, the whole business. He went back to his unit, and then the Thais decided that the Japanese weren't winning the war, and they changed and became our allies. Now you're not going to believe this. They called him back and took the medal because he was fighting on the wrong side. (laughs) I could go on forever on this. My brain couldn't absorb it. When I'd left that and gone back to the United States, I guess when this happened -- I don't remember where I was, but anyway, I wrote him a letter, and I said, "What in the world is going on in Bangkok? You were the commander of the 1st Division, responsible for the security of Bangkok. Your father-in-law is the dictator. They're rioting in the streets, and, to the best I know, nothing's happening." He wrote back to me, after some (inaudible) [02:19:06] time, and said, "Well, you just don't understand our way of thinking. The soldiers had killed some civilians who were rioting, so I went back to my BOQ and stayed there two weeks, and when I came back my father-in-law had been deposed, and the fighting was over." Huh? (laughs) And it wasn't that he wasn't a good soldier, and it wasn't that he was afraid of anything. No, we'd fly around in his damn helicopter and take it places I never would have gone. On the other hand, he had some VIPs coming over, and he said, "We can't take the helicopter today. I'm going to use it tomorrow for some Thai VIPs, and I don't want any fingerprints on it, I don't want to make sure there's no bullet holes in the thing. We'll just take this other thing." What? We couldn't come together. At one point, the real one that almost got me in trouble -- I think it was on Thanksgiving -- our base camp also had three units in it from the 1st Cavalry Division, and the Thais, and the Thais who were responsible for the security, and I was responsible to the US headquarters. Well, on the big army base, maybe 15 miles away, on Thanksgiving night everything went up in the air, flares, and shooting, and machine guns, and all the Thais thought this was great, and they all did it. He called me in the next morning, and he laid me out. He said, "No Thai would ever do that. Your Americans did this." Well, OK, I'll suck it up. "I assure you it won't happen again, sir." So come New Year's time, I put out to my staff with each of his units, where they normally served, to stay with them all night and record everything that happened in that TOC. Next morning he got me again when I went in there. I said, "Sir, before we say anything else, I suggest you talk to your TOC officer." He went down there, and those 30 guys, we made them record everything, and he discovered that it was his units that were doing it. What do you suppose his answer to that one was? JC: I don't know. RT: He called in his senior officers and said, "I'm resigning from the army. You've let me down." And he went back into his hooch and stayed there for about three days. I woke up at the end of three days early in the morning, and the whole goddamn Thai Army that was posted in Vietnam was out there in a formation. I walked out to see what was going on and stood behind him -- he was up on a platform -- and they all apologized, etc., and he forgave them, and they went back into the woods to their positions. They'd left their fighting positions to come back and apologize to the commanding general. JC: Oh, wow. RT: (laughs) You can find one worse than that, I'll bet. My goodness. JC: Want to stop again? (break in audio) JC: Let's stop here, because we've done about another hour and 10 minutes. (break in audio) RT: Let's -- (break in audio) [02:23:15] JC: All right, this is Joseph Cates. Today is May 19, 2016. This is my second interview with Major General Russell Todd. This interview is taking place at the Sullivan Museum and History Center. This interview is sponsored by the Sullivan Museum and History Center and is part of the Norwich Voices Oral History Project. So when we left off last time we had gone through Vietnam, and you're ready for your next assignment. What was that? RT: OK. When the Royal Thai Army left Vietnam I moved out to a brigade, as I said earlier. But the time with the brigade was very unsatisfactory to me as a professional. It was a little more than a month, and that's not what I considered to be a command. So thinking about what would happen when I got home, I called to the Pentagon, talked to the people in armor branch. A lieutenant colonel sits on a desk and shuffles the papers for colonels and helps make the decisions. I told him I wanted to have a particular command at Fort Lewis, Washington, that I knew the command was about to change. And they said, "Oh, we've already appointed somebody to that port. But you are coming back to go to the Pentagon." 31 I had fought off the Pentagon earlier in my tour. When I was working for General Abrams I got a call from the Pentagon that said "We're bringing you back to the United States because a new position has opened up, and it calls for a brigadier general, and although you're only a colonel, we want you to fill that position." And I said, "Tell me about it." They said, "Well, you're going to be the army's first drug-and-alcohol-abuse officer." I said, "You've been watching what I'm drinking." He said, "No, this is what we've got in mind for you." And I said, "That isn't going to work. It just isn't going to work. I'm over here on a two-year tour, and if you want me to leave here, I'll give you General Abrams's telephone number, and you can call him and ask him to release me." Well, no, they didn't think they would do that. (laughs) So when I went back I went to the Pentagon, and there I went to work for a four-star general who I had met several times, because he traveled to Vietnam back and forth, General Kerwin, a wonderful, wonderful soldier. And when I reported in he told me that I was going to be the head of the department that he supervised for the Modern Volunteer Army. My job would be to coordinate all of the programs that were going on both at posts, camps, and stations around the country and around the world, and also within the Pentagon, to evaluate where we ought to be going. Well, OK. It wasn't my first choice. I had about, oh, 10 lieutenant colonels working for me in a very small office that didn't have any windows, and there was a lieutenant general working in the chief of staff's office whose title was the chief of modern volunteer army. So I was torn between two very senior officers who didn't agree with each other very often, and the job went on, and back and forth, and up and down, but a lot of answering letters from the Congress and this kind of thing, and then evaluating things that came from the field. Well, one day I was up in the next level in the Pentagon, because I'd been called by that lieutenant general, and he started chewing me out just something awful for reasons I couldn't explain. Finally he said, "I'm going down and see General Kerwin." My boss. What the hell's this about? So I was standing alone in his office. He went out a side door, and I said, "I've got to get to General Kerwin quick." So I picked up -- they have red phones that go between the very senior officers. I picked it up and dialed General Kerwin's office, and he has to answer that, no matter what's going on. And I said, "Sir, we got trouble," and told him what was going on. I saw him later in the day. He said, "Thanks. That really made a difference." From that moment on, he treated me like I was one of his best friends and had faith in what I was doing. Now, they did bring back in a major general who had just stopped commanding the 82nd Airborne Division, and he came in, and he was my immediate supervisor. But General Kerwin made a proposal -- not a proposal -- instructions to everybody about that time that said "Everybody that works for me in the deputy chief of staff personnel office is going to spend four years in this job." I could see my chances of getting a second shot at a brigade just going out the window. Carol and I had bought a house in Washington, the first home we ever owned. In France it was a rental, and everything else was army quarters. So this was special. She loved that house. She took a job in Washington, DC, in the personnel department, and then she had done a lot of that before, and that was sort of a big part of what she had done at Radcliffe after Smith, and she loved that job. In fact, everywhere we went she tried to find a job that would keep her busy and active. 32 So there we were, balancing back and forth. Now what do I do? Well, I'll go back to my old trick and call the people in my branch on the phone, and I called this young man early one morning before anybody else was in the office, and he happened to be there. I told him my plight, that I'd been really cheated in that one month I'd had in the thing, and General Davidson had said I was coming to Europe with him to command a brigade, and that didn't work out once he found out I'd never been in the Pentagon. "So I want a command, and I want to lay it out right now. I want you to start working on it." He said, "Sir, I'm not sure I can do that." I said, "Well, what time do you come to work?" He said, "Well, I'm in here by 8:00 every morning." I said, "Get in at 7:30 on Monday, because I'm going to call you every goddamn Monday I'm sitting at this desk," and I did. Eventually he said, "I've made an appointment with you with my boss, Colonel [Touche?], who oversees all the branches for colonels." I walked over, and it was my old friend from Fort Knox who had been the senior aide when I was the junior aide to General Collier. He had talked it over with the committee that makes these kinds of decisions, and they were going to put my name in nomination to go back onto the brigade commanders list. Great. A few weeks later I get a phone call that says "We put your name before the committee, and you are on the list, and you're number two." Uh-oh. I'm supposed to spend four years working for General Kerwin? (laughs) So a little later they call back and said, "Whoa. Wait. In the 2nd Armored Division the brigade commander has moved up to be chief of staff, and that brigade is open." I said, "OK. Now you guys call General Kerwin and tell him that you're pulling me out." They said, "Like hell we will." (laughter) So I went to see General Kerwin, and he sort of grimaced and (inaudible) [02:32:24]. He said, "You know my policy." I said, "Yes, I do, sir, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for me." And he said, "I'll tell you tomorrow." So the next day he called me, and he said, "Against my better judgment I'm going to let you go to that command. But let me tell you this. The day that's over you're coming back to work for me." I said, "Yes, sir. Thank you." I ran home. (laughs) A little later, in time, the moving truck was in front of the house. I'd gone home, checked out of the office, done everything appropriately, and gone back, and there was a phone call waiting for me at home. General Kerwin. He went on to say what he really wanted me to do, wouldn't I know, is that -- "Sir, we've made our deal," and he says, "OK, but remember, I'm going to get you when you get (inaudible) [02:33:21]." And that was very pleasing to me. I loved the idea of working for him. But, again, it was a matter of just working your way through the system. It was terribly important to my career and to me. People were telling me that "You don't have to do this" kind of thing. You know, "You've done all those kinds of things." But no, that wasn't the career I wanted. So I went to the 2nd Armored Division and took over the 3rd Brigade of the 2nd Armored Division at Fort Hood, Texas, and that was a real fun thing. I really enjoyed it. I had a lot of good people working for me. Some of them went on to become general officers later on. The first thing that happened was they told me that the brigade in one month is going to move to Germany on Operation [Forger?]. Does that mean anything to you? Well, in the Cold War we had built all kinds of home hutches and places to store tanks and materials that take a lot of time to get into the theater. If they said, "OK, the balloon went up. Come over here," you wouldn't have had any -- you'd have to wait for your 33 tanks for a month. So they had all those vehicles and stuff over there, and every year we went over and exercised the idea of flying over -- not me, the army did. It was my brigade's turn, and it was just great. I had planned that thing for every possible contingency, in my mind, and we laid it out with the staff. I said, "Now if this happens, or that happens, or this happens, this is what we'll do. Plan A, B, C, and D." And damn, I figured everything except it was going to snow at Fort Hood, and the air force wouldn't show up. (laughter) So we were about two days late getting there, and it slowed things up. But we went out on maneuvers for about a month and a half, and that was a great experience. I'd done it as a company commander when I was stationed in Europe, but as a brigade -- when I went over I've been detached from the 2nd Armored Division of the United States and attached to the 1st Infantry Division, when I got over to Europe. There for the first time I met a fellow named (laughs) -- I met someone, a senior officer, a brigadier general who, because my brigade wasn't part of his division, I had to go through the ropes of him looking over my shoulder for the first three weeks of what we were doing. It wasn't easy. Eventually he and I had a good reputation among each other, and then we're good. It worked out pretty well. Well, his name is Fuller, Fred Fuller. Just to move that part of the story a little further forward, when I went to Forces Command he was the DESOPS, and I was the assistant -- correction, he was the DESPER, personnel, and I was the assistant DESOPS. And again, good friends, you know. No, sir. I had to prove myself all over again to him. That was tough. That was tough. Then when I became division commander at Fort Hood, would you believe they made him the corps commander, and my boss again? And again, I went through the process. I called it rook training, he wanted to test me on everything that was going on, and then eventually he agreed, and we got along. That was a very difficult relationship I had with that individual. So we came back from Germany after the Reforger, and it was time to change division commanders. A general officer that I had met once or twice but didn't know came in as the two-star commanding the (inaudible) [02:38:26]. This was a fight for my life. He, in my opinion, didn't represent a good soldier. He would drive in his jeep with the two stars on the front, down the street, and the men in the division would say, "Hi, General," and he'd wave back, "Hi." No saluting, none of this. He would come around in my battalion and ask the company commander and the battalion commander to see their operational reports, and particularly the readiness reports, whether or not this tank would go or that one. He required them, not required them, but pushed hard for them to like take something off this tank and put it on that tank, and now we've created another tank that this one isn't working, this one if you take the parts and put it on this one, that's one less tank, but will look that much better. It was everything how you looked. Eventually he was promoted to lieutenant general and shipped to Europe, and his chief of staff caught on to his way of life, reported it. He got thrown out of the army, reduced to major general, and was retired. But that was a tough fight, that was a tough fight. In town now there's a major general, retired, John Greenway. Maybe you've met Phyllis. JC: I have. RT: Well, John Greenway was my chief of staff in the brigade, and I don't know how many times he saved my life. He'd say, "No, no, no, don't go up there and tell that general off. 34 Don't do it. Stop here." One time I actually said, "The hell with you, John, I'm going up there." I was really mad. Again, he had ordered my people to do something that was not proper. So John called up the division chief of staff, who was a good friend, and said, "Russ is on the way. Stop him." (laughs) So I never got in to see him, and I calmed down, and the chief of staff discussed it with me in a way. But it was a difficult, difficult system to live with, but I had wonderful people working for me. JC: Well, that's good. RT: Yeah. JC: What year is this? RT: Oh, my God. (inaudible) [02:41:04] I can't remember my birthday. (laughter) It was about '60 something, yeah. I came back to the United States, and I was assigned to forces command, where General Kerwin was, the man that said, "You're going to go work for me," and I went to work for General Kerwin just as I'd been promoted by the system to be brigadier general. I worked for him for two years and then another year with General Rogers, who went on to be the chief of staff of the army, and it was great. Real professionals who understood various ways of handling people beautifully. I must admit, he had a chief of staff who wasn't quite up to speed in my opinion, and as a result I found myself bypassing the chief of staff, which really isn't a very good idea. But both General Kerwin and General Rogers, when I was there, would call me on the phone directly and ask me to do something. As the junior brigadier general at Fort McPherson, Georgia, they immediately appointed me to be club officer, and to be the president of the Association of the United States Army chapter at Fort McPherson. I was really the junior guy in that headquarters as far as a general officer is concerned. The biggest thing that happened to me really there was that that's when we had the baby lift out of Vietnam, and then we had the evacuation of Vietnam. In the operations business at forces command, we had the responsibility of preparing those units in the United States, wherever they might be involved, to prepare them for the influx of people. I was up a lot of nights and really mad at the air force sometimes. They would bring in planes early, before we could finish taking people off the previous planes and get them, kind of thing. They finally came around. But it was a real wonderful experience as far as I'm concerned. I had the thrill of getting a thank you letter from the president and being called in by the State Department, who had the responsibility of taking these people once they arrived in the United States -- when they arrived in the United States the army was responsible for them. We took old barracks and tried to fix them up to be for families and all the rest of it. And the next step was to put them out into the population in America, and that was done by the State Department. At the end of this, the State Department gave me an award and invited me over to Foggy Bottom, and it was carried out in the formal part of that. It's a very ordinary-looking building, but inside, on the top floor, they have collected and put in there all the furnishing and antiques of America. They would go to somebody that had something that the State Department wanted, and they would say "We would like to have it, and we will replicate it exactly, and give you back the replication." They built -- it's a museum, it's a wonderful, wonderful museum of 35 American furniture through time. I was really impressed with it being there. I wasn't that impressed with the State Dept- people in Vietnam. (laughs) It was very interesting. JC: Yes, sir. So this was around 1975, that would be (crosstalk; inaudible) [02:45:47]. RT: Yeah, that's right. Yeah. I did one or two year. JC: Where were you from Fort McPherson? RT: From Fort McPherson, when my immediate boss left General Rogers called me in and said, "I want you to be my full-time top guy and deputy chief of staff operations." I said, "No, General, that isn't right." "What are you talking about, it isn't right?" I said, "You want someone that's been a division commander to be in that job. I mean, you're dealing with all those division commanders, and if the guy that's passing the instructions hasn't had the experience of being a division commander, it doesn't come through right." And he said, "All right. All right." About a year later I was on a board in Washington. You're sent in to do a lot of those things. Interestingly enough, on this particular one I was the head of the board for captains being promoted to major, and I got in trouble with General Rogers. The instructions we had were "These are the formulas, etc., that you follow when you're looking at the history of their being in the service. You can add to this other things, if you, as a board, want to do it." The first thing we added to it was that any captain who had served a normal period of time as a captain in the combat arms branches and had not had a company wasn't to be promoted on this occasion to major. Passing up a captain, you pass up the real army and the real understanding of the army, and, oh, boy. It turns out that we eliminated from being promoted five captains at West Point, instructors, and that reverberated around the world. (laughs) General Rogers finally calmed down. Then on another occasion when I was away in Washington he called me on the phone and said, "The major generals promotion list has just come out." I said, "Oh, good. Who's on it?" and they said, "You are." Oh, wow. After I went back he called me in his office and said, "Now, I'm going to send you to Fort Hood to command a division." Previous discussion, you got to have a command. I said, "Oh, my. Where's George going?" And he looked at me with this great strain on his face and said, "George who?" I said, "George Patton, 2nd Armored Division." I had been in the 2nd Armored Division twice. Four men have commanded the 2nd Armored Division, three of them during World War II. I knew that was my place in life. Well, he said, "You're going to the 1st Cav." Of course, when I'd been there as a brigade commander the 1st Cav was the enemy. (laughter) It was a little difficult to change my mindset that I was now the head of the 1st Cavalry Division, but it turned out to be a good assignment, too. We were immediately assigned a mission of working on something that was called Division '86, and this was the '76-'77 time frame. What we would do is to experiment with different organizational concepts, try them out, and another R&D organization would evaluate whether this was a good idea, or whether it wasn't a good idea. But, man, was that a lot of work. We had soldiers picking up their mattresses and marching over two streets, and then joining another company, because now we were trying -- we were going to have tank platoons with only four tanks rather than five tanks, 36 and these guys had to fill in for the -- you know, back and forth, and up and down. It was a crazy time, but it was very, very rewarding. We lived next door to George Patton and Joanne Patton, and as a matter of fact we had become very close friends over the time we were in the army. We went home on vacations sometimes by accident at the same time, back in New England, and other times purposefully. But we celebrated our twenty-fifth wedding anniversary together, both divisions, at the club, and it was officers. It was really good sport. JC: Was that your last command? RT: No. They sent me to -- at one Fort Hood, after two years of commanding the division, I went down and commanded something called [Tecada?] [02:51:38], which was a research and development experimental station kind of thing. I was doing to the rest of the world what they'd been doing to me, for two years I guess, at which point I was shipped over to Europe to be the deputy chief of staff for operations under General Kroesen. He was one of the most magnificent soldiers I'd ever met. I worked for him once before for a short time, but he was first class. Then I got a call from Loring Hart, president of Norwich University, who I'd gotten to know -- over his 10-year span as president -- pretty well. In my traveling around at various times, I was the head of the Norwich Club of Georgia, the Norwich Club of Fort Hood, the Norwich Club in Europe. They'd come over to visit, and we became close. I had come home on leave to see my dad, who was in bad trouble health wise, and I got a call from Loring Hart to my dad's home down in New Hampshire. He said, "I need you to come up here. I need to talk to you; it's important." And I said, "Gee, I don't know. Dad is not well, I don't know how long he's going to live, and I can't be here very long, so I really and truly want to see as much of him as I can." He said, "Well, afterward, after this weekend" -- it was a big alumni weekend -- "I'll stop in to see you." I said OK. Well, Mother got a hold of me, and Dad got a hold of me and said, "Go on up there." Dad said, "Get a hold of my classmates and tell them I'll be there next year." Well, I knew most of his classmates. When I arrived I found them at lunch in the Armory, and I walked down to the table, the half where they were, and started saying this lie about my father, he's going to be getting well, and he'll see you next year when he comes. All of a sudden the most unusual thing happened. There was this great noise in the Armory, and it kept getting louder and louder and louder. As this individual coming into the room got closer to our table, I discovered that it was General Harmon coming back, and all of these people were saying, "Ernie, Ernie, Ernie, Ernie." I couldn't believe it, you know, really and truly. It showed me just exactly how much he was loved by this institution. That doesn't mean he didn't make a lot of mistakes at times, but he really pulled us out of the woods. So Loring Hart stops in at the house and says, "The board at Norwich University has told me that 10 years is enough, and I'm going to retire. I want you to put your name on the list to be considered." I said, "You're a PhD, you taught English, you became the dean of the university. I don't have any of that." He said, "And you don't need it either, because I'm absolutely certain they're going to choose a soldier." I said, "What do you know, I'm qualified." I went back to Europe, told my boss, and then came back. I made a couple of trips back and forth. I told my boss, which was General Kroesen, what was 37 going on, and then went to see the chief of staff of the army to tell him that I was putting in my papers. You know, after you've been division commander you owe the army something, because of the experience they've given you. So I went to see General "Shy" Meyer, who I'd known in Vietnam, and I was a little dubious here. What will he say? So I told him, and he jumped up from behind his chair, rushed around to my side of his desk, shook my hand, and said, "Boy, that's just exactly what I want to do when I get out." (laughter) Then, unfortunately, and this doesn't have to be spread around, he told me that my name had been submitted to be promoted to Lieutenant General, and it is now before the Congress. Had I not put this in and had I been selected, I was going to go to one of two different jobs, and neither one of them sounded as much fun to me as coming home. Not that I could change my mind. Once you've told the army you're retiring, you're retiring. You don't change your mind. So that's how I got here. JC: What were the other two choices? RT: To be the chief of staff of USEUCOM, which was for the European theater of all of the activities there, and the other one was on the joint staff, doing the DES-OPS kind of work, which is called the J5. JC: So you come to Norwich. Talk a little bit about the application process, because I know Phil Marsilius says in his oral history that they gave you an eight-point plan that they wanted implemented. RT: Yeah. Very unusual I thought, and very useful. Before I get to that (laughs), Carol and I came. We went to New York City and joined a committee of the board who were involved in the selection process. The plane was late, the taxis weren't running, and we were late getting to this thing. Carol was a little nervous that that showed that maybe we weren't working hard enough to get there. They said to me, "We've just finished lunch. Do you want something to eat?" and I said, "Oh, yeah. How about a bowl of onion soup?" Carol said to me afterward, "You could have chosen anything but that cheese dangling out of your mouth." (laughter) But, to me, we had a wonderful conversation, and quite frankly I left in the cab going back to the airport with a member of the board who sat there and congratulated us, because they were certain that the board was now going to select us. Yeah, interesting. Where were we in our discussion? JC: The eight-point plan. RT: Yeah. I can't tell you what the eight-points are right now, but they were all reasonable, one of which was to make Vermont College work, the system of the two institutions together, and that's interesting, too. On that point I tried very hard -- they put a lot of pressure on Loring to go up to Vermont College at least twice a week. He'd go home, changed out of his uniform into civilian clothes, go up to Vermont College, and I don't know what he did, presumably he did good things, and came back again. I got into that routine with him, and I found that Vermont College was in deep trouble, I mean, in my opinion. Over time Vermont College had reduced the quality of their education in order 38 to sustain the number of students they needed, and they had all kinds of programs going that didn't make a lot of sense. They had a nursing program that was excellent. Excellent. They had just bought some programs from -- oh, what's the name of it? JC: Goddard? RT: Goddard College, and they were difficult to mesh into the family. For example, I hadn't been here very long, and I got a call from Mrs. Lippincott, who was the chief officer of Vermont College and had previously been Loring's assistant. I got a call that said, "There's going to be a graduation on Friday" -- this was about Wednesday -- "and it's going to be outside at Vermont College. It's going to be one of the Goddard programs that's graduating at this time. They would like to invite you to be part of their graduation." So I said, "Fine, I'll be there." But before I went I hadn't heard anything more, so I called up to find out, and I said, "Now, what's my role in this? Do I hand out the diplomas? Do I make a speech, do I congratulate them from the platform? What do I do?" They said, "Oh, no, they just want you to sit there and be present. They do all this themselves." OK. I can live with that, and we'll see what happens. The first student to graduate came up, gave a little speech, each one of them, and then took their diploma and put it from their left hand to their right hand, and went back to their chair. The institution wasn't involved. This happened seven or eight times before I really said this is something we've got to look at. Then they decided, or they didn't then decide, the next thing was to have a musical rendition. They had a fellow with a fife and a piano player, and they pushed the piano out toward the group, and the front leg broke off pushing it through the grass. They somehow got it jacked up and started, and the flute player -- well, it was awful, just awful. The next day I said to my vice president, Jim Galloway, major general, retired, I told Jim what had happened, and he said, "You know, you weren't the first. I was the first. The same sort of thing went on, but it was crazier when I was up there." I said, "Tell me." He said, "The flute player was in a tree." (laughter) So we spent some time trying to bring it into the focus. Quite frankly they had some fine professors. They just didn't have a system involved. JC: I've always heard Goddard is a little strange. RT: Well, put it this way. One time Carol and I invited the president of -- oh, in Burlington. JC: UVM? RT: N
Issue 14.5 of the Review for Religious, 1955. ; Reviewfor Religious SEPTEMBER 15, 1955. Caussade on External Grace . John A. Hardon Effective Governing . Claude Aquavlva Mother Xavier Warde . $1s{er Mary Julian To Teaching Sisters . ~'ope Plus XII Secular Institutes . Francis N. Korth Intellectual Obedldnce . Augustine G. I:llard I, Book Reviews" Questions and Answers ForI Your Information Communications VOLUME XIV NUMBER 5 R Vlg:W FOR RI::LIGiOUS VOLUME XIV SEPTEMBER, 1955 NUMBER CONTENTS EXTERNAL GRACE IN THE SPIRITUALITY OF PI~RE CAUSSADE-- 'john A. Hardon, S.'J . 225 SOME RECENT PAMPHLETS . 234 EFFECTIVE GOVERNING-~Claude Aquaviva, S.'J .2.3.5. FOR YOUR INFORMATION . 240 MOTHER MARY XAVIER WARDE-~Sister Mary ,Julian Baird, R.S.M. 241 TO TEACHING SISTERS--Pope Plus XII . 251 THE DEDICATED LIFE AND SECULAR INSTITUTES-- Francis N. Korth, S.'J . 257 A RATIONAL APPROACH TO INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE-- ~ Augustine G. Ellard, S.3 . . 261 COMMUNICATIONS (on "praying reasonably," and on retreats) 266 OUR CONTRIBUTORS . 266 BOOK REVIEWS AND ANNOUNCEMENTS-- Editor: Bernard A. Hausmann, S.,J. West Baden College West Baden Springs, Indiana . 267 QUESTIONS AND ANSWERS-- 22. Introducing a Thirty-Day Retreat . 278 23. Introducing Perpetual Adoration . 278 24. New Devotions at Mother House . 279 25. Introducing Lay Retreats at Mother House . 279 26. Annual Retreat outside Houses of Institute . 279 27. Rank of Lay Sister when Grade is Abolished . 280 28. Extended Vacations for Favored Group .280 REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, September, 1955. Vol. XIV, No. 5. Published bi-monthly: 3anuary, March, May, 3uly, September, and November at the College Press, 606 Harrison Street, Topeka, Kansas, by St. Mary's College, St. ~vlarys, Kansas, with ecclesiastical approbation. Entered as second class matter 3anuary 15, 19420 at the Post Office, Topeka, Kansas, under the act of March 3, 1879. Editorial Board: Augustine G. Ellard, S.J., Adam C. Ellis, S.J., Gerald Kelly, S.'J., Francis N. Korth, 8.2. Literary Editor: Edwin F. Falteisek, S.2. Copyright, 1955, by Adam C. Ellis, S.~I. Permission is hereby granted for quota-tions of reasonable length, provided due credit be given this review and the author. Subscription price: 3 dollars a year; 50 cents a copy Printed in U. S. A. Before writing to us, please consult notice on inside back cover. l:::x ernal Grace in the Spirltuali F ot: P re Caussade John A. Hardon, S.J. pERE CAUSSADE ~.s unique an~ong ascetical writers in modern times. The one book on which his reputation rests, L'Aban-don a la Providence Divine, was not published by him but edited a hundred years af~ter his death, by Father Rami~re, the apostle of the Sacred Heart in France. I.t was not even a book in the ac-cepted sense but a collection of 1.32 letters of spiritual direction, which he wrote to the Religious of the Visitation at Nancy~ where he had charge of the local retreat house. Yet this posthumous work has enjoyed a diffusion 'perhaps unequalled in its class during the past century. As of 19218, it had gone through twenty-one editions in French and had been, translated into a dozen languages. In the new Enciclopedia Cattolica, published under Vatican auspices, the author is described as "the classic teacher of resign,ation to the will of God." I The full title of the original edition, Self-Abandonment to Divine Providence, Constldered as the Easiest Means of Sanctification, gives us the clue to its Wide popularity. In the mind of Caussade, the easiest way to spiritual perfection--for everyone--is complete resignation to the super.~atural providence of God. As such, the idea was nothing new, but Caussade's hafidling of the subject was decidedly new. He integrated this ,familiar concept into the body of Catholic doctrin~ onI external grace and thereby clarified what previously had been known, but not so pointedly realized. The following study is "inteNded to synthesize the basic elements of Caussade's teaching oni self-abandonment to divine providence, where the latter is conceived as a veritable atmosphere of external graces in which God pla~es our life, and through which He designs our salvation and sanctification. The Meaning of External Grace In the spirituality of P~re Caussade, the activity of God is de-scribed as embracing all time and all things, operating without ceasing and with divine surety for the sanctlficanon of human souls. He sees all creation as unified in this divine operation and conse-quently regards every creature, in its way, as a predestined means 225 JOHN A. HARDON Review for" Religious to lead men to their supernatural end; in other words, 'as a grace of God. "The order established by God, the good pleasure of God, the will of God, the action of God--grace--all. of these are the same thing in this life. It is God laboring to make the soul like to Him-self. And perfection is nothing else than the soul's faithful co-oper-ation with this labor of God." Moreover, what may not seem im-mediately evident, since the power of God is infinite, it is not only the good things but also the evil which He can use to accomplish His eternal designs upon men; so that "everything succeeds in the hands of God, He turns everything into .good." Although P~re Caussade makes no distinction between internal and external graces, but considers everything in some sense as a grace of God, yet it is not difficult to trace such a distinction in his writings. Following the common terminology, graces are called ex-ternal when they are outside of man's intellect and will and internal when they are immediately and specially received from God within the intellect and will. In answer to the question, then-~What does Caussade regard as an external grace?--he would answer, "Every creature which is "not an internal grace of God." "The divine order gives to all things, in favor of the soul which conforms to it, a super-natural and God-given. value. Whatever this order imposes, what-ever it comprehends, and all objects to which it extends, become sanctity and perfection; for its virtue knows no limits, but divinizes all things which it touches." As extensive as it is, this concept of external grace is in full accord with Catholic theology. St. Augustine, for example, does not hesitate to call external graces all the effects of supernatural providence which help the human will to perform acts of virtue and those which, under divine guidance, prevent men from committing sin. Different Kinds of External Grace An exhaustive classification of the various types of external grace described by Caussade would run into a score of items. But these can easily be reduced to several large divisiofis. Eoergthing which is good. As a general principle, the love of God transforms into grace everything which is good, nor does i't limit this transformation only to such things as appear good to as. For divine love is present in all creatures, with the sole exception of those which are sinful and contrary to the law of God. Temporal afflictions and adversities. God uses them to convert and sanctify our souls. No matter how painful, sickness and physi- 226 September, 1955 CAUSSADE ON EXTERNAL GRACE cal suffering are in reality a grace of God, always intended as such for the one suffering and sometimes used by Him for the conversion and sanctification of others. Writing on one occasion to a friend whose fields were destroyed in °a storm, Caussade expressed his sym-pathy that "hail and the rains have done great damage in many provinces, including your own. But God intends this'as a grace, that we may derive profit from all the plagues of heaven for the ex-piation of our sins." Spiritual and psychological trials. It is generally easier to accept sickness and temporal adversity as coming from God than to recog-nize His gift in the negative conditions of our mind and emotions: aridity in 1Stayer, coldness in spiritual things, anxieties, discourage-ments, and fears. Caussade does not subscribe to the theory that these states of mind and feeling are a certain sign of negligence on the part of the soul. Without denying this possibility, he prefers, with St. John of the Cross, to consider them as species of'divine grace. "Just as God converts, reproves, and sanctifies people living in the wo, rld through afflictions and temporal adversities, so He or-dinarily converts, reproves and sanctifies persons living in religion by means of spiritual adversities and interior crosses, a thousand times more painful, such as dryness, fatigue and distaste" for the things of God. The actions o[ others. God uses the actions of other people as graces for our sanctification. Their ordinary words, conduct, and gestures are in'tended as means of producing supernatural effects in our souls. This is particularly hard to see where the actions are offensive and the offender is personally not wicked, and may even be highly virtuous. Hence the exclamation. "Blessed be the God of all things and in all things, but especially because He knows how to use all things for sanctifying His elect through one another . He often uses a diamond to polish another diamond. How important is this thought for our consolation, that we may never be scandalized at the petty persecutions which good men sometimes occasion against each other." In this connection, St. John of the Cross used to say that a religious is refined and sanctified in word, thought, and action by the character and manner of conduct of his fellow religious. It is of special importance to see. God operating in the perse-cution or perhaps criminal actions of others. He permits these things in order to draw good out of them. Thus St. Paul's inspired pane-gyric on the great believers of the Old Law--Noe, Abraham, Moses, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph--is an application of this principle, that 227 JOHN A. HARDON God tries His chosen servants by sending them trial ahd opposition~ and their sanctification is determined by the measure of faith which recognizes in these human obstacles the workings of divine grace. This was tbe~spirit in which David accepted the cursing of Semei, as a just punishment ordained by God for his spiritual welfare. With St. Augustine, therefore, we should "marvel at the way G6d uses even the malice of those who are wicked in order to help and elevate those who are good." Temptations. If considered as coming from the devil,' ten~pta-tions are directed only to the destruction of souls; but from the viewpoint of God's permissive will, which never allows us to be tried beyond our strength, they are true graces. And "violent temp-tations" are especially "great graces for the soul." By the same token, the revolt of the passions, which is often a cause of anxiety to spir-itual persons/should not be regarded as evidence of aversion from God,*but, "on the contrary, as a greater grace than you can con-ceive." Troubles of conscience may be estimated in the same manner. Sins at least might seem to be excluded from the category of external graces. Evidently God does not want anyone to commit sin. And yet, says Caussade, "we must remember that, without willing sin, God uses it as an effective instrument to keep us in hu-mility and self-depreciation." This thought is very much like that of St. Augustine who, when speaking of' Peter's denial of his Ma~ter; explained that God permitted this humiliation to teach him not to trust in himself-~thus turning a grievous fault into spiritual ac-quisition. Sanctif~ting Effect of External Graces The sanctifying effect of external graces was already familiar to Sts. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, who recognized that God exercises a special supernatural providence over souls who are living in His friendship. What seems to be Caussade's contribution in this matter is the tie-up which he made between external graces and the sacramental system; while only analogous, there is a real simi-larity between the two. In both cases, the external element is an in-strument for the communication of grace. External graces are sanctifying in countless ways. But in general Caussade concentrates on the three most familiar in the spiritual life; n~mely, by purification, illumination, and union with God. This -is not to say .that only these effects take place, or that they Occur in any.particular sequence; and least of all does it mean that Caussade 228 September, 1955 CAUSSADE ON EXTERNAL GRACE ignores the correlative necessity of internal grace to ourify, enlighten, and unite the soul with God. I. P~ri[ication The second volume of the French edition of L'Abandon is mainly concerned with the purifying effect of external grace, achieved through detachment from creatures and stripping of self. Repeatedly the axiom is stated that "a person cannot be united with God, source of all purity, except through detachment from everything created, source of impurity and continual corruption." To this end "it is necessary that our souls be emptied [of creatures], before God can fill them with His own Spirit." By means of external graces, and especially suff4ring, God ac-complishes in us this detachment from creatures and self. There is a difference, however, in His way of acting with different persons. Those already advanced in the spiritual life, He is accustomed to "despoil of all gifts and sensible f~rvor," whereas "the effect of His mercy is to deprive worldly persons of temporal goods in order to detach their heart from them." Time and again, Caussade, stresses the same truth: God purifies the soul by suffering and trial. But he goes beyond the ordinary in-terpretation of the statement in Scripture that the just man is tried by afflictions as gold is tried by fire. "Crosses and tribulations," he says, "are such great graces that generally sinners are not converted except through them, and good persons are not made perfect except by the same means. Following the analogy used by the saints, Caussade compares God to a doctor who administers bitter medicine to restore health to the soul and removes with the scalpel of suffering whatever stands in the way of our spiritual progress. According to St. Augustine, "in those whom He loves, God, like a wise physlciam cuts away the tumor" of overweening self-confidence. To be specially noted is that this law of purification is universal; it applies as well to worldly minded as to saintly souls; it affects temporal goods as well as spir-itual attachments; and it is proportionally more intense and com-plete as the degree of union with Himself to which God intends to raise a soul is greater. Thus'St. John of the Cross: "according to the proportion of its purity will also be the degree of enlightenment, illumination and union of the soul with God, either more "or less"; and the requisite purity is obtained in the crucible of purification. Caussade therefore concludes that "the more God retrenches nature,,. the more He bestows the supernatural.'" 229 JOHN A. HARDON Reoiew for Religious II. Illumination External graces also enlighten the soul to recognize l!h'e will of God in its regard. Caussade looks upon this manifestation of the divine will as th~ "~piritual direction of God." One of the surest means of sanctification, he believes, is simply to use whatever God, ¯ the supreme. Director of souls, places before us moment by moment, e.ither to do or to suffer. Souls who thus abandon themselves to the will of God find evidence everywhere of what He wants them to do. They are directed "by the intermittent actions of a thousand creatures, which serve, without study, as so many graces of instruc-tion." Consequently, God is seen as leading us as much by the external events of our life as by the internal inspirations of His grace. He - "speaks" to us as He spoke to our Fathers, to Abraham and to the chosen people, showing us His will in all the circumstances which befall us. Addressing himsel~ to God, Caussade declares: "You speak, Lord, to the generality of men by great public events. Every revolution is as a wave from the sea of Your providence, raising storms and tempests in the minds of those who question Your mys-terious action. You speak also to each individual soul by the cir-cumstances occurring at every moment of life. Instead, however, of hearing Your vdice in these events, and receiving with awe what is obscure and mysterious in tbese Your words, men see in tbem only the outward aspect,' or chance, or the caprice of others, and cen-sure everything. They would like to ad& or diminisIi, or reform, and to allow themselves absolute liberty to commit any excess, the least of which would be a criminal and unheard-of outrage. "They respect the Holy Scriptures, however, and will not per-mit the addition of a single comma. 'It is the word of God,'. they say, 'and is altogether holy and true. If we cannot understand it, it is all the more wonderful and we must give glory to God, and render justice to the. depths of His wisdon~.' All this is perfectly true, but when you read God's word from moment to moment, not written with ink on paper, but on your soul with suffering, and the daily actions that you have to perform, does it not merit some at-tention on your part? How is it that you cannot see the will of God in all ~his?" Every circumstance, therefore, of our daily life is an expression of the divine will .for us at that moment. And, correspondingly., .every external grace is meant for our "guidance and illumination:'i Commenting'o'n thi~ doctrin~e in L'.A.bandon, Garrigou-Lagrange. 230 September, 1955" CAUSSADE ON EXTERNAL GRACE 'points out another function' which external grace may serve as a means of our instruction. "In this way," he says, "within us is formed that experimental knowledge of God's dealings with us, a knowledge without which we can" hardly direct our course aright in spiritual things or do any lasting good to others. In the spiritual order more than anywhere else real knowledge can be acquired only by suffering and action." For example, "we foresee that a very dear friend who is sick has not long to live, yet when death does come and if our eyes are open" to see, it will provide a new lesson in which God will speak to us as time gbes on. This is the school of the Holy Ghost, in which His lessons have nothing academic about them, but are drawn from concrete things. And He varies them for each soul, since what is useful for one is not always so for an-other." An important element in this experimental knowledge is the experience it gives us of our weakness and imperfection in the face of trial and temptation. These occasions--external graces of tribu-lation- show us how impotent we are to do any good without the help of God, and teach us to turn to Him in'stead of depending on ourselves; for, as Caussade e~plains, "We must be thoroughly con-vinced that our misery is the cause of all the weaknesses we experi-ence, and that God permits them by His mercy. Without this re-alization we shall never be cured of secret presumption and self-complacent pride. We shall never understand, as we should, that all the evil in us comes from ourselves, and all the good from God. But a thousand experiences are needed before we shall acquire this two fold knowledge as an abiding habit: experiences which are. more necessary the greater and more deeply rooted in the soul is this vice of self-complacency." III. Union with God The most important effect of external graces is the union with God which they develop in the soul, to which purity and illuminatiofi are only contributing means. In a famous passage, P~re Caussade regrets that more people do not appreciate this power that creatures have to unite us with the Creator. ",What great truths are hidden ever; from Christians who imagine themselves most enlightened. How many are there among us who understand that every cross, every action, every attraction according to the designs of God, gives God to us in a way that nothing can better'explain than a .comparison with the most august mystery?-Nevertheless there is nothing more 231 JOHN A. HARDON Ret~iew for Religious certain. Does not reason as well as faith reveal to us the real pres-ence of divine love in all creatures, and in all the events of life, as indubitably as the words of Jesus Christ and of the Church reveal the real prese~nce of the sacred flesh of our Savior under the Eucharistic species? Do we not know that by all creatures and by every event, the divine love desires to unite us to Himself, that He has ordained, arranged, or permitted everything about us, everything that happens to us with a view to this union? This is the ultimate o~bject of all His designs, to attain which He makes use of the worst of His creatures as well as the best, of the most distressing events as well as those which are pleasant and agreeable." It may be added by way of explanation that Caussade, in com-mon with traditional theology, understands union with God in two ways, as active and as passive. In active union, the soul gives itself to God by conformity to His will; in passive union, however, besides the active conformity of will, God Himself acts in the soul by ~he gifts of His interior grace. Obviously, external graces cannot, of themselves produce the latter kind of union; they only dispose the soul to receive it. Yet, in the ordinary providence of God, they are the conditio-sine-qua-non for passive union with God. This doctrine which regards external graces as disposing the soul for passive union is familiar from the writings of St. John of the Cross. It is also the underlying theme of The Abandonment to Divine Providence. God uses external events,, persons, places, and circumstances to perfect a human soul in His love. This may take place in a variety of ways. 1. External graces give us occasion to resist temptation and acquire the contrary virtues. In general, temptations are said to be the effect or permissive result of "one and the same mortifying and life-giving operation of God. On the one hand, He allows the various movements of passion to give you an opportunity for combat and development in the opposite virtues. On the other hand, He estab-lishes in you, in the midst of these agitations, the solid foundation of perfection, namely, understanding, profound humility, and hatred of self." Thus conceived, the fight against temptations takes bn a nobler meaning. Without them we should remain satisfied with a minimum of effort, with less intense acts of virtue. They spell the difference between a certain regularity in well doing and the fervor which leads to high sanctity. 2. These trials not only help us acquire solid virtue, but they prepare us" for union with God, that "you may love God for 232 September, 1955 CAUSSADE ON EXTERNAL GRACE Himself at the cost of yourself." We are also given occasion to prove our love, as declared by St. Francis de Sales, that "it is not in ab-negation, nor in action, but in suffering that we give the best evi-dence of our love . To love suffering and affliction for the love of God is the high-point of heroic charity; for then nothing else is lovable except the divine will." 3. Finally, external graces assist our growth in sanctity and render us more apt for union with God by increasing the store of supernatural merit. Divorced from the spirit of faith, the routine details of domestic and religious life'seem to be quite meaningless. In reality "these 'trifling' daffy virtues, faithfully practiced, will bring you a rich treasure of graces and merits for eteznity." More heavy trials, says Caussade, ale more meritorious. This does not mean that the &gee of merit corresponds to the difficulty of the work performed, which is false. But in supporting burdens that are more difficult, we generally give a greater proof of virtue than when doing actions which are more agreeable. Difficult tasks not infrequently demand the outpouring of all the generosity of which a soul is capable. Estimate of P~re Caussade When introducing P~re Caussade's L'Abandon to the public, Henri Rami~re felt he should answer the first question that comes to the mind of anyone familiar with some of the aberrations in - French spirituality that were current in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. Is there any danger that this doctrine of abandonment, if put into literal practice, will lead to a type of quietism which says that "in the state of perfect resignation to God, the soul renounces every act and exercise of any virtue, and remains in quiet repose in the presence of God"? P~re Rami~ke first analyzed Caussade's theological principles, somewhat as we have done in ,,the foregoing study, and concluded that they are founded on the" bedrock of Christian asceticism, as taught by the Church~s tradition and as practiced by the greatest saints. Then he makes a number of distinctions, which completely dissipate any misgivings about the orthodoxy of Self-Abandonment. Caussade did not °write a c~mplete treatise on Christian perfec-tion. He took only one aspect~ namely, submission to the will of God, and omitted--without tl~e suggestion of denying--the bulk of ascetical principles, in whos~ light this one aspect must always be viewed. Moreover, the people for whom he was writing were persons already advanced in vibtue, consecrated to a life of perfec- 233 SOME' RECENT PAMPHLETS tion, who could be considered as already practicing the essentials of the gdspel precepts and counsels. The basic error of quietism was its utter passivity, equivalently denying the necessity of man's active cooperation with the grace of God. To attribute this kind of passivity to the self-abandonment recommended by Caussade would be to completely distort its mean- : rag. It is something eminently active, in combatting self-love, repug-nance, and the snares of the devil. Its "passivity"--so-called--con-sists in the nonresistance to God's will, and in the fruit of this non- .resistance, which is an e;cer more perfect indwelling of the Holy, Spirit. Given these distinction~, Rami~re concludes, so far from being dangerous,, the doctrine of Self-Abandonment "may be taught to p.ersons in every walk of life, and, if properly undi~rstood, will make sanctity appear to them most accessible," as it really is.1 1The most detailed study of this question is ~y E. J. Cuskelly, M.S.C., "'La Grace Ext~rieure D'Apr~s Le P. De Caussade,'" Revue d'Asc~tique et de Mgstique, 1.952, pp. 224-42, 337-58, from which the present article has drawn many ideas. SOME RECENT PAMPHLETS GRAIL PUBLICATIONS, St. Meinrad, Indiana. Follow Christ. Edited by Gerard Ellspermann. O.S.B. This is a vocation pamphlet. Pp. 64. 25 cents.--Hints on Preaching. By Joseph V. O'Connor. Pp. 50. 25 cents.--Pilgrimage to Fatima. By Jerome Palmer, O.S.B. Pp. 42. 15 cents.--The Six Sundays of ~Saint Aloysius Gonzaga. Compiled by L., N. Douglas. Pp. 30. 15 cents.--Whg on Sundatls? By John M. Scott, S.J. Pp., 44. 15 cents. THE LITURGICAL PRESS, St. John's Abbey, Collegeville, Minn. Sanctifging Pregnancg. By Margaret .Place. Pp. 39. 15 cents.--Liturgg's Inner Beautg. By Abbot Ildefons Herwegen. Translated by William Busch: Pp. 44. 20 cents. THE NEWMAN PRESS, Westminster, Maryland. An Eas~j Method of Mental Prager. By Bertrand Wilberforce, O.P. Pp. 31. 50 cents. ~ SOCIETY OF SAINT PAUL, 2187 Victory Blvd.; Staten Island 14, N.Y. ~ A Preparation /:or Perpetual Vows. By James J. McQuade, S.J. Pp. 62. THE QUEEN'S WORK, 3115 So. Grand Blvd., St. Louis 18, Mo. Recover!j, Inc. By John J. Higgins, S.J. Pp. 32.~Novena to St; doseph. By Sister Emily Joseph, C.S.J. Pp. 32. So You Want Peace of Min$! By Hugh P. O'Neill, S.J. Pp. 24--Hold Your Tdngue! By Winfrid Herbst, S.D.S. Pp. 31~Mothers with Empty Arms. By Rev. John J. Regan. Pp. 24. --That Won-derful Sundag Mass. By Daniel A. Lord, S.J. Pp.~32.--Will You Save "Souls? By Ferdinand Schoberg, S.J. Pp. 30.--The Loving Heart of a Mother. By Daniel A. Lord, S.J. Pp. 32.--You're Sense-ational! By Rev. Chester Wrzaszc-zak. Pp. 32.--Each, I0 cents. 234 Governing Claude" Aquaviva, S.J. [EDITORS' NOTE: While superior general of the Society of Jesus, Father Claude Aquaviva wrote a treatise called the Industriae, which was intended to help super-iors deal with the "spiritually ill"--that is, subjdcts with ~motional problems~ The second, and perhaps most celebrated, chapter of the lndustriae contains many suggestions for combining firmness and gentleness in governthent, When we beglin publishing various items under the genera! heading "The Good Superior," it' was suggested that we publish an English version of this celebrated chapter. For the version given here, we are indebted,to Father W. Coleman Nevils, S.J. and Mr. James E. Whalen, S.J.] ~ RACIOUSNESS must go hand .in hand with: strefi.gth.ih ef- ~ fective governing. This especially applies, to a commfinit~; o'f religious who voluntarily have given themselves to G6d's service, who have a spontaneous and enthusiastic desire to be directed aright in the path of perfection and are animgted thereto by ~he practice of mortification and self-denial. Thd fathers of the Church as well as our constitutions abundantly dictate the necessity of uniting graciousness and firmness in all administration. St. Ignatius himself, by word and example, taught this lesson. However, to combifie these two in practice is no easy task. We are dealing with.those who profess to,follow the path of perfectiori and should be ever eager and anxious that nothing be omitted that' may be helpful thereto: yet, the flesh and human weakness are not always able to follow with equal strides the aspirations of the spirit. A process of governing may be initiated with highest zeal, but it ma~ also fail to be guided by knowledge. As a result, this way of governing, oblivious of human weakness, would become harsh and simply intolerable. Again, if we keep our eyes fixed on human weak-ness and under pretext of brotherly compassion yield to what the flesh desires against the spirit, shall we not have a community of tepid and carnal men in whom we shall be fostering not the spirit of abnegation and love of the cross but sensuality and self-will? For, as the Scriptures say, "Its torrent sweeps away the 'soil of the earth" (Job 14: 19). Thus we destroy the ess'ence of the religious life. That the religious life means abnegation and love, of the cross is the iesson beautifully taught by .St. Basil and all other spiritual masters; .instructed by Christ our Lord, they have handed down the same lesson as the principle and foundation of the religious life. What then is-t.he superior to do to keep firmness from degenerating into severity or graciousness into langour and laxity? As far as I have been able to learn from experience and observation, I will now explain this 235 CLAUDE AQUAVIVA Re~ieu~ for Religious very briefly. To do this clearly and concisely, I have felt that the most convenient plan would be to draw up certain headings of rigorous and severe governing and likewise to enumerate some causes 6f laxity. Then through a comparison of the two extremes, to in-dicate how we may keep to a middle course. A. HARSH AND DISAGREEABLE GOVERNING: 1. If heavy and unbearable burdens are imposed; this is some-times due to indiscretion on the part of the superior and his narrow mindedness. , 2. If, as more frequently happens, the task is not so difficult in itself, but the one on whom it is imposed would find it so, because .he has neither the physical nor spiritual strength to bear it. 3. No matter what the task is, if it is imposed in a harsh way, with a certain despotic manner; especially if the superior appears to be influenced by some inordinate mi~tive. 4. If the task is imposed at an inopportune time when the sub-ject is not properly disposed and no time has been granted nor a.ny help given that the subject may become better disposed. 5. If there is lacking a sense of proportion, and hence light burdens and heavier ones are imposed with the same ardor; in fact it can happen that, because of some fad or fancy of the superior, lighter duties are made more of than more serious ones. 6. If all attempts made by the subject to expose excuses and explain personal difficulties in this particular task are abruptly rejected as temptations, without any effort to listen in a kindly way. . 7. If the superior shows himself of a suspicious nature and so .ill-disposed that the subject has not a chance to present his dif-ficulties, etc., and has no hope of ever satisfying the superior. 8. If the superior has preconceived an unfavorable opinion of the subject and is always disposed to put an unworthy interpretation on whatever he does, this causes great affliction. 9. If, while considering the institute and the rules and failing to look at himself, the superior makes no allowance for the weak-nesses of others; if, in fact, he greatly exaggerates their defects and, in assigning tasks, acts not as if he were dealing with a son who is rational and willing but with insensible instruments at his disposal. 10. If he is not clear and gives orders in an equivocal way as if he purposely does not want to be understood, so that he can easily ¯ blame the subject if the result is not as might be desired--it is a- 0 ~mazing how very irritating this defect is to the subject. '236 September, 1955 EFFECTIVE GOVERNING I 1. If he never knows how to say "yes" to any petition; rather let him weigh well the request and by whom it is made and see if it is edifying for the community or externs and of advantage to the -subject. 12. Finally, if in doubtful cases he is always rather strict and rigid in his interpretations. B. WEAK AND LAx GOVERNING: 1.~ If attention is paid only to the big things and the mere avoidance of scandal is the norm, while everything else is let slide along. 2. If rules are looked upon rather lightly either because they seem so numerous or under the pretext of their gracious phrasing by the original founder. 3. If what has over because subjects others urge a change, sed over. 4. If, from the grows accustomed to been enjoined is easily changed or e'~en p~ssed show some slight repugnance: or if, because it is made or even the whole injunction is pas-frequent transgressions of some, the superior regard violations as not so wrong though he really knows they are wrong. 5. !'f he does pass judgme'nt and a[tually disapproves, but in order not to pain anyone or stir up a hornet's nest, be omits admoni-tion or refuses to give a reproof, let him refledt on St. Gregory's warning that in his fear to speak out, his silence gives consent. 6'. If, to console certain .individuals and to keep them from murmuring, eitt~er because of the position they hold or have held, or on account of friendship or for some personal regard, be easily makes concessions which both for those so favored and for the edification of the community are not proper. 7. If, in order to avoid any unpleasantness with this one or that, he either shuts his eyes to faults or administers no correction and, as if to be on the safe side, ;:toes not take the necessary steps. 8. If, under the pretext of humility or meekness, be allows him-self to be disregarded and his own words to be contemned. 9. If, from natural timidity or some other weakness, he admon-ishes in a routine and lifeless way, so that he makes no impression on the delinquent, and acts as if he were only doing so because he is obliged to do so before God, thus freeing himself from any scruple for baying omitted a correction. I0. Finally, if he feels that now he has done his duty, when,' 237 CLAUDE AQUAVIVA Review /=or ~Religious content with admonitions he has shown his displeasure at what has been wrong, but does not take efficacious means for its correction, and, like Hell, thinks he has accomplished everything if be should say, "What wickedness is this of yours, that brings me the complaints of a whole people!" (I Samuel 2:24) C. GRACIOUSNESS AND EFFECTIVENESS IN GOVERNING From the above we can easily see where there is harshness and where weakness and laxity; and either extreme must be avoided--not to be unduly hard nor too lenient. Nor is it difficult to see how effectiveness 9ught to be joined to graciousness, so that there will result strength in securing the end desired and graciousness in the manner and way it is attained. For, in making concessions and in denying them, in correction and reprimand, in punishing those who Wfail, in giving orders, in advancing subjects to virtue and perfectiofi and drawing them to a higher life, consideration must be given to the individual himself, his powers of body and soul; opportunities must be well weighed, exhortation used, and above all charity joined with zeal must hold highest sway; forbearance and patience must be constantly preserved. However, it must not be allowed that subjects aspire to act with impunity, doing just what they wish and omitting what they do not wish with the result that they satisfy their own inclinations and be-come accustomed to act and to relish what they desire even against the orders and decisions' of superiors; that they look upon the rules as mere counsels, which, if observed, they do well, but if not observed, there is no harm done. To tolerate this is not graciousness but slug-gishness; it is not to look to the good of the order, nor to the good even of those who are',so dealt with. Let not superiors imagine them-selves kindly and gracious if they govern in this manner; indeed, they are remiss in their duty and are weaklings. Nor let them flatter them-selves that, when they are harsh, they are only zealous for religious discipline. But let not subjects call rigorous and harsh an effort or zeal which is made to sustain religious discipline and to prorhote perfection. Nor let them exact such g,raci.ousness on the part of the superior that is rather a harmful indulgence.~ Rather let them under-stand that many things, if impediments to perfection, must be denied them; and many injunctions must be given which may not be to their liking but which pertain to the glory of God and to the good of the community. He who desires to be directed and improved must not try to shun all corrections and penances nor to regard that physician 238 September, 1955 F~FFECTIVE GOVERNING as kind who, for fear of offending the patient, neglects a cure and allows a disease to increase dangerously. Cassian in his conference on fickleness of soul claims that a certain Serenus, who, he says, mirrored in his person his name, had known of some cases where the indulgent governing of certain superiors had come to such a sorry state that they were obliged to coax with sweet words thei) subjects to stay in the cloister and not go out to the pernicious occasions of sin in the world; in fact that the greatest fruit to be hoped for was that subjects would shut themselves up in solitude, though remaining just as lazy as they wanted. The great cure-all of these indulgent superiors used to be this favorite pre-scription: "Stay in the cloister, and eat and drink and sleep all you want, so long as you stay in the cloister!" Let superiors, then, and especially provincials, be on their guard against too great indulgence and undue leniency, as these can work all sorts of ruin to a religious order; thence, graciousness is not to consist in gratifying every will and desire of subjects. We should recognize that graciousness lies in this, as we bare said, that in giving a reprimand, for example, there be no .harshness, no sign of ange~ or perturbation; rather, there shines forth a paternal interest, an affec-tionate sympathy, and a certain vigorous and efficacious agreeableness. Let the one who is being reproved realize that there is no question of a desire to give humiliation and punishinent, but only of a neces-sity to provide for the good of the community and for the true ad-vantage of the individual himself who is being punished. If we re-fuse what must be refused, let it appear we do so with regret, and that we are always ready to grant the request when it may be pos-sible or expedient to do so. If we wish to remedy a defect let us not be so hypercritical; rather, kindly enforcers who are not eager for the upperhand but for the good of the Society and of the subject himself, we should rather seem to be conspiring with him to gain a victory over the Tempter. In giving orders in a considerate and friendly way, we should show that we are seeking nothing else but God's glory and the good of the subjects. What cannot be granted today, may patiently be expected tomorrow, so th~it we are always looking expectantly to-wards the end and carefully applying the means thereto. Even though through the subject's lack of spirit we do not accomplish much, yet we cannot do anything more efficacious and gracious than to make him a careful examiner of his own spiritual welfare. Graciousness, in a word, is had if we treat subjects with a heart full of charity so 239 FOR YOUR INFORMATION that they readily entrust their temptations to the bosom, as it were, of their mother; and if, on the other hand, whatever corrections corn4 from us, the subject receives them not with irritation (no mat-ter how disagreeable to his feelings), but as springing from the sup-erior's love of him. Hence, St. Ignatius has taught in his constitutions that strictness must be so mixed with kindliness and gentleness that the superior never allows himself to be swayed from what he judge~ to be more pleasing to God, our Lord. As is fitting, let him l{now what it is to be compassionate with his sons, bearing himself in such a .way that even though those who are reprehended or corrected may be displeased according to their lower nature' at what is done, still they will acknbwledge that the superior is doing what is right before the Lord and that he does his duty with charity. Your nrrorma!:ion Apology and Explanation It was long our policy to printcommunlcat,ons' " ~from our read-ers, as well as items of information sent to us concerning their work, their publications, and so forth. During the past year we have had to omit much of this because material that had to be published left us very little extra space. We regret this because we believe that, besides being interesting, such items further mutual understanding among religious communities. We mention this now so that those who bare sent us communications and other material of an inform-ative nature.will realize that we have not purposely neglected them; also, we want to make it clear that this restriction of space has been a temporary measure. Material sent in future will be given due at-tention. The Mind of the Church As we have stated previously, the present mind of the Church concerning the government of religious is best expressed in three addresses by Pope Pius XII and in the address given by Father Larraona at'the conclusion of the meeting of mothers general in Rome, September, 1952. Father Larraona's address was published in our November, 1954, number. Of the three papal addresses, one (to the mothers general, September 15, 1952) wa~ published in (Continued on page 276.) 240 Mother M ry X vier W rde Sister Mary Julian Baird, R.S.M. [All facts for this account are taken from Reuerend Mother M. Xauier Wa~de by the Sisters of Mercy, Mount St. Mary's, Manchester, New Hampshire, published by Marlier and Company in Boston in 1902.] i l ~VEN by A,,m, erican standards," wrote one of her Irish bi/ ~ ographers, Mother Xavier was a stormy petrel." Certainly the mayor of Providence in the March of 1855 would have agreed with him. ~ Five years earlier, on the feast of the Translation of the Relics of St. Francs Xavier, the Sisters of Mercy from Pittsburgh, led by Mother Mary Xavier Warde, had made their first foundation in Rhode Island. Bigotry was rife in that section of New England, where only brave women would have come, and braver ones stayed. There were days when every window in their poor little house on Weybosset Street was broken by the Know-Nothings, an un-Ameri-can group that showed, in rough ways, hostility to anything Cath-olic. Of them, however, Mother Xavier would say to the sisters: "They have, no doubt, the best of motives. Only their judgments are clouded by prejudice. All that will pass away . " Well indeed it might have passed, thought Mayor Knowles, as he twisted his hat nervously while waiting for Mother Xavier in the parlor of the academy which Bishop O'Reilly had opened for the sisters in the October of the previous year. Had the sisters stayed in the poorer section of the city, ill-feeling might have died. Now the news of the more ambitious venture to' educate the daughters of the wealthier citizens of Providence had spread; alarm was general. What would not these Catholics achieve if left alone? The mayor sighed. He must persuade Mother Xavier and her nuns to leave the city. He rose hastily as she entered. This tall, 'well-proportioned woman with the keen, dynamic face and gracious manner silenced the speech of protest he had prepared. In rich, soft toneh she as-sured him of her pleasure in meeting the mayor of Providence. "Happy to have you in the city," he heard himself saying. Yet he had the presence of mind to add, "I wish we might ask you to remain." The question on Mother Xavier's face forced him to go on. The 241 SISTER MARY JULIAN BAIRD Review for Religious sisters were in serious danger, be continued. He could not hope to defend them against ten thousand ruffians bent on their destruction. They must leave the city, and soon. Mother Xavier looked her astonishment. "Your honor," she said, her voice still sofl~, "we have disre-garded no duty, no responsibility-of good citizenship. As a body of religious women we are laboring here in our own sphere. Have we given any provocation for this interference? Will Christian men constitute a mob against unoffending women? Are our rights as citizens not to be protected?" Mayor Knowles gripped his hat more firmly as he faced her. "I am powerless to prevent an uprising, Madame." "If I were chief executive of municipal affairs, I would know how to control the populace," she countered. Looking at her again, the mayor knew that this slender Irish woman could probably have done so. But he shrugged his shoulders and shook his head. "Best to go quietly," he repeated. Mother Xavier shook her head more stubbornly. "We will remain in our house, and if needs be, die rather than fly from the field of duty where God has placed us." She was true to her word. On March 22, less than a week later, the Sisters of Mercy were still resident in the academy on the corner of Broad ~nd Calverick Streets. As evening fell, the novices, ignor-ant of any danger, said their night prayers and "retired. The older religious stayed on guard before the Blessed Sacrament. Mother Xavier alone went to the garden where the Catholic men of Provi-dence, well,armed, took their places to protect the convent. From group to group she went, with evident calm, and exacted from each man a promise that no gun Would be raised nor offence given unless they were called on to do so in self-defense. The rioters made their way up the street, and, as they drew up in line before the silent convent, could see t~he quiet activity within the garden, the white linen coil and guimpe of Mother Xavier clear in the glare of the. street lamp. Gradually the calm was broken by hisses and cat-calls. The sisters were summoned by the mob leader to leave their convent. At this juncture, Bishop O'Reilly and Mr. Stead, the former owner of the property, appeared at the front entrance. In resonant tones Mr. Stead told of the armed force within the convent grounds. They were ~rishmen, he added meaningfully; and they could fight. 242 September, 1955 MOTHER MARY XAVIER WARDE Then the Bishop came forward. His words rang with sincerity. "My dear friends, in God's name, let not this city, nor the free institutions of this republic be tarnished by any dastardly uplifting of your arms against those who have wrought you no harm, but whose blameless lives are their sure defense before God and men. Depart in peace to your homes, and sully not your honor in act so vile." The night air was tense. Then, one by one, the rioters with-drew. Mother Xavier's courage and faith had won. This intrepid spirit was probably what had first attracted Cath-erine McAuley, foundress of the Sisters of Mercy in Ireland, to Frances Warde.She met her in the early days of her foundation, before establishing a new community of religious women was so much as in her thoughts. Fanny Warde was then a socialite in Dub-lin, a girl of only eighteen, the spoiled daughter of a widowed father. Wealth and good times had not filled her heart, however; and a few hours of every day were spent in helping Miss McAuley in her schools for poor children. In Fanny, Catherine McAuley found the counterpart of herself, a vivid, powerful personality alert to Christ's work for souls, and a born leader. Against the tranquillity of her own personality; Fanny's temperament seemed a mounting flame. Together they made a remarkable team. After the foundation of the community, when Fanny had become Sister Mary Xavier and was assistant to Mother McAuley in the Baggot Street house, it seemed a foregone conclusion that she would succeed to the office of superior when Catherine died. God changed that. Carlow, a thriving city some distance from Dublin, asked for Sisters of Mercy. Mother McAuley was quite justified in declaring that she bad no more to spare. The only leader left was Sister Xaviei', the only manager among her lay sisters was Sister Veronica. Neither of them could be moved from Dublin without crippling the work there. But on the heels of her refusal to make a foundation in Carlow came the swift and sudden death of Sister Veronica. This strong admonition of God was sufficient for Mother McAuley. A group of sisters was sent to Carlow at once. At their head went Sister Xavier, from that time on called Mother Xavier. Even before Mother McAuley's death in i 841, several new houses were founded from Carlow. When Bishop O'Connor of Pittsburgh, U.S.A., came seeking Sisters of. Mercy for his American poor, it was natural that he should g.o there to Mother Xavier. It was in-evitable that she would head the mission. Although only thirty- 243 SISTER MARY JULIAN BAIRD Review for Religious three years old at the time, she was accustomed to leadership since her early training under Mother McAuley. Strong, activel apostolic -~Mother Xavier was the ideal pioneer for the rough work that awaited her and her sisters in the United States. Her travels over America read like an Odyssey. A stop on the first trip to Pittsburgh when crossing the. Allegheny Mountains must have given her a poetic vision of the days ahead of her. Bishop O'Connor had the stagecoach stopped at the summit of the Alle-ghenies. Here, he told Mother Xavier, he had received a commission from Demetrius Gallitzin, the Apostle of the Alleghenies, who had died only three years before, to bring the sisters to teach his mountain children there. As Mother Xavier looked at the virgin-forests, through which the dauntless Russian prince-priest had traveled to cover his faptastically large parish., she thought, "This is America. This is the wilderness of Godlessness to which we must bring Christ and Mary. Here we must build again the City of God." $o she pledged her word, to be redeemed by the Pittsburgh sisters in 1848, that some of them would fulfill the dying wish of Father Gallitzin. Pittsburgh itself would have .been enough for a smaller soul's ambition. The basement of the convent became a school immedi-ately after their arrival from Ireland. Visitation of the sick was be-gun at once. The sisters took charge of the girls of the Cathedral Sunday School while the bishop's students continued to care for the boys. On the first floor of the convent, Mother Xavier instructed a large' class of adults. Her impressive manner and clarity of ex-p! anation were instrumental in winning many souls. So large did the adult classes become as the fame of her gracious and simple inter-course spread, that the opening of further day schools had to be delayed eight months after the foundation, while she transferred her clasges to the first floor of the newly constructed' school. Soon girls of the better families were attracted to join the sisters in their work, and the first American novice, Miss Elizabeth Tiernan, received the Mercy habit on April 11, 1844. In honor of the Ameri-can foundress, she asked for the name Sister Mary Xavier. It was she whom Mother Xavier took with her when she returned to Ire-land seeking mbre recruits. Generous though American girls were, they could not be trained quickly en6ugh to supply sufficient work-ers for the increasing labors that opened to the sisters. When Mother Xavier came back with more Irish nuns, the bishop of Chicago, a newly formed diocese, demanded that she keep a'promise made to him the day she 'landed in New York harbor. Sisters of Mercy were 244 September, 1955 MOTHER MARY XAVIER WARDE needed in the West, he had told her, and she had said she would send him some as soon as possible. Now, he seemed to think, that must be. $o, in the summer of 1846, Mother Xavier took there six of her Pittsb,urgh nuns. The trip by stagecoach was killing; accomo-dations in the then primitiye city were beyond her imaginings. In the small wooden city of Chicago, with its fifteen thousand inhabi-tants, the sisters' home was a rude shack. Even the bishop won-dered, as .he talked with Mother Xaviec the morning after her ar-rival, if he should have asked such women to face such privation. Mother Xavier smiled at his consternation and lifted her finger. Through the rough boards that formed a wall between the room in which they were talking and the so-called community i~oom of the sisters, came the sound of merry laughter and happy voices. "The sisters are content," she assured him. And he was satisfied. For the first months they worked unceasingly. The customary works of mercy--visitation of the sick and poor, instruction in re-ligion, and the opening of schools--were launched. Among the pupils who came to the first school of the sisters in Chicago were children of trappers, bordermen, hardy settlers, sea-faring men, brigh~ matter-of-fact children whose spontaneous vivacity appealed to Mother Xavier's own simplicity of heart and direct approach. Even the Indians fell beneath the charm of her personality, calling her "Palefaced Mother." When the foundation seemed able to continue without her aid, Mother Xavier planned to return alone to Pittsburgh. It was winter. In view of the difficulties of the journey to Chicago, when the weather was clement and she had the company of six sisters and the brother of the bishop who accompanied them, it seemed noth-ing short of madness for her to consider such a step. The decision was part of her careless courage, of her constant minimizing of her own hardship, and, above all, of her boundless confidence in the providence of God. For a week, all by herself, dressed in secular clothes, she traveled through the bleakness, over prairie and wilderness, through mud-bogs and, blizzards until she reached Pittsburgh on a cold, rainy morn-ing. At the convent, she had only the strength to knock on the door. The amazed sisters found her on the doorstep in a state of utter collapse. For ten days-she hung between life and death. Then, as though, like dohn Henry Newman, she realized that she had "a ¯ work to do," Mother Xavier began to recover. There was still al- 245 SISTER MARY .JULIAN BAIRD Review /:or Rellqlous most a half-century more of pioneering before her. Had she died then, Mayor Knowles of Providence would prob~ ably have had no worry about the Know-Nothings demolishing the convent of the Sisters of Mercy. For it was to his city that she led a party of sisters in 1850. At this so-called Parent House of New England, Mother Xavier stayed. Pittsburgh was to see her no more. From here ~he opened missions in Hartford and New Haven in the May of 1852. It was then that she noted in her journali ardent desire to see Christ's little ones trained under the guidance of religious teachers is coming to pas.s to an extent far beyond what I ever dared to hope . How true is the old proverb, 'The first step is the only difficulty.' " As the Western children had attracted her, so in these new fields she praised "the grand, sturdy, New England character." But this may have been what one of her clerical friends called her undefeatable optimism. "With Mother Xavier," he said, "all the geese are swans." She always, in her own estimation, lived in the best possible section of the country among the best people that God had ever made. There was also notable in her outlook a broadness very well illustrated in the debate as to whether the Sisters of Mercy should have schools for the well-to-do or confine themselves to the instruction of the poor. The issue first arose in the American mission in Pittsburgh when .the bishop proposed the building of St. Xavier Academy at Latrobe. Only Mother Xavier voted for the project.t The other sisters said that there was more than enough work for them to do among the numberless l~oor; that their community had been founded specifically for the service of the least fortunate of Christ's children. Knowing M~ther McAuley as well as she did, Mother Xavier did not hesitate to challenge this opinion. It is the need for mercy that dictates our activities, she reminded them; the spirit of the institute is mercy in whatever form it is required. Specifically of this she wrote: "Charity may be practised on the rich . Let us d~o good to rich and poor as our Divine Master did while here on earth." At Rochester, New York, a foundation was made in 1,857, The following year Bishop Bacon of Portland, Maine, appealed to her for sisters. In his letter he stated bluntly: "Only the piety, the courage, the zeal and the hardihood of a pioneer religious will ever be able to rough it in the establishment of Catholic schools in Maine and New Hampshire." When the sisters heard this, they knew that they must lose Mother Xavier. Reluctantly the bishop of Providence let her go to this new mission field. Once again she w, as on the 246 ~epternber, 1955' MOTHER MARY XAVIER WARDE road for Christ. The situation she found in Manchester, where she made her headquarters, was somewhat similar to that in Rhode Island earlier. In July, 1854, the Know-Nothings had driven the Catholics from their homes, dragged the sick from their beds into the streets, de-stroyed the furniture, and proceeded to break the stained glass windows in St. Anne's church, then nearing completion. Only the peace-making spirit of the pastor, Father .McDonald, had kept the Catholics from retaliating. Under his wise direction, the spirit of prejudice abated, but not su~ciently for his parishioners to share his enthusiasm for introducing teaching nuns in the still bigoted city. It is only by seeing the sisters at work that they will learn to appreciate them, Father McDonald argued, and started to build a convent. Before it was half erected, a mob demolished it. He began again. This time he had it guarded night and day, himself sleeping there to prevent further damage. When it was ready, he asked the bishop for Sisters of Mercy. In this remarkable pastor, Mother Xavier met her equal in courage and devotion. From the day she met him, they worked together for Christ and His little ones. Beginning slowly, the sisters gradually fulfilled his prophecy that the citizenry would be con-vinced of the good they might do by seeing it done. One of their most important and most satisfactory works was the instruction of converts, a task to which Mother Xavier gave herself with tremendous zeal and prodigious success. A new type of work begun here was night schools for the children working in factories. In the autumn of 1858, in addition to the extensive free schools she had already established, Mother Xavier began an academy at Mr. St. Mary's, housed at first in the convent itself, and then in a separate school building. Unlike the first academy in Providence, there was no ani-mosity aroused by this structure. In fact, so completely had the sisters conquered the bigotry of Manchester that the city council, in 1860, permitted them to use a vacant public school in Father Mc- Donald's parish for a grammar school of their own. During the Civil War Mother Xavier and the sisters ,were gratified to receive numerous letters from their "boys" who were cared for by Sisters of Mercy in the. hospitals of the Union army. This was a work of Mercy to which Mot~her Xavier could not give herself. But a remarkable incident recorded by one of the sister-nurses shows how fa~ her silent example, even without words, had reached.One of the soldiers whom she nursed told her that he had been one of 247 SISTER MARY JULIAN BAIRD Reoiew for Religious the mob that intended to destroy the convent in Providence Wher'e Mother Xavier had boldly ~xposed herself to speak to the men in the garden who guarded the building. The sigh~ of her xrariquillity and courage had shamed him so that he left the scene even before the bishop spoke, went to a priest,, asked for instructions and baptism. "The sight of her," he said, "was a blessing." Foundations sent out during Mother Xavier's years in Man-chester were many: Philadelphia in 1861; Omaha, Nebraska, in 1864; Bangor, Maine, in 1865; Yreka, California, in 1871; Bur-lington,' Vermont, in 1872. The houses already~'opened flourished and made foundations of their own. Orphanages and hospitals and homes for the aged were added to their already extensive works of mercy. As the works increased, so did the number of girls entering the novitiates. Each foundation had its own novitiate, and was in-dependent of the mother house in most cases, a necessary circum-stance in the days of limited transportation and communication :fa-cilities. '~ Of considerable joy to Mother Xavier in 1878 was the sending of her sisters to Maine to work among the Indians. Their first convent was the wigwam of the chief of the tribe, who generously vacated it to accommodate the nuns. She visited them a few months later, to be welcomed ~on the banks of the river by a flotilla of Indian canoes. Probably for the first and last time in her life, Mother Xavier evinced fear. The canoes were of birch-bark, and very fragile in appearance. The chief invited her to enter his to cross to the other shore where the reservation was located. Mother Xavier looked. She took a small step: She hesitated. The swarthy face of the chief wrinkled in an understanding smile. With a wave of his hand he summoned a more sturdy-looking rowboat. With dignity Mother Xavier entered it and was rowed safely to the opposite bank, Characteristic of her was the remark she made on her way to the wigwam convent, with Indian children clinging to either hand and gifts of homemade baskets waved at her from eager Indians lined along the path. "Oh, how happy Mother McAuley Would have been to see this!" Her loyal' heart never let her forget the woman who had taught her mercy. In her speech she reverted so constantly to her teaching and example that the sisters who lived with her felt that they had a first-hand; personal knowledge of the foundress who had never set foot in AmeriCa. The Indian missions were the last to be directly founded by Mother Xavier. In the following year she was~shocked to learn of 248 September, 1955 M(~THER MARY XAVIER.WARDE the death of her blood-sister, Mother 3osephine Warde, whose death in Ireland robbed the Sisters of Mercy there of one of their greatest leaders. From this point on; ,Mother Xavier seemed old. Yet she was strong enough for the work of the day, always first i'n the chapel in the morning and busy daily with administrative duties. It did not seem possible to those who saw her activity that she could be the oldest Sister of Mercy in the world. In 1883 this fact was brought home to everyone by the national celebration of her golden jubilee.Every convent of the order joined in a novena for the American foundress. Invitations were issued to all connected with the Sisters of Mercy to be present at the day of celebration, January .24, at Mt. St. Mary's 'in Manchester. Of all the congratulations and gifts that poured in upon her that day, the one that Mother Xavier cherished most--and the only one that brought tears to her eyes--was a tribute of shamrocks from St. Patrick's grave sent to her by school children in Ireland, with verses that ended in the hope that Mother McAuley would bless her spir-itual daughter's festival "with her smile and her blessing from Heaven." The jubilee was really the ,beginning of the end for Mother Xavier. Her health failed perceptibly from that point on, but the loyalty of her sisters unanimously elected her again to be Mother Superior at Manchester. In spite of the practicality of that gesture, notes from a retreat she made immediately, after the election show that her mind was already in heaven. On August 12, 1883, she wrote: "May the Cross of Christ be about us! O good cross, that makes us rejoice in the Holy Will of God. Close to God, all is peace and contentment in Him. They tell me that I am growing strong again; they try to hope it is so, but I feel old age is here, and I realize that very soon I shall stand before His throne. Shall I be able to go on doing the little I have hitherto done? I do not know; but I put myself without reserve into God's hands. Let us pray and give ourselves up to the Divine Will." A singular happiness was reserved for these last days in the ap-pointment of Reverend Denis M. Bradley as the first bishop of Man-chester by Pope Leo XIII. As a child, the bishop-elect had recited his catechism to Mother Xavier and had received his First Com-munion from Father McDonald. With joy they had watched him prepare for the priesthood and ordination. Now the month ~f May was entirel~r &voted to preparations for his consecration. Mother Xavier's part was in supervising the making of vestments to be worn 249 SISTER MARY ,JULIAN BAIRD by her bishop. Before he began his retreat in Troy Seminary, he vis-ited her to beg her prayers. But on June 11, when he was consecrated, she ffas too ill to attend. His first visit after the church festivities were ended was to her poor little cell, for even in her last illness she re-fused the comfort of the infirmary. When her sight left her that 'summer, she asked the sisters to lead her to the chapel, where she spent endless hours in prayer. Im-potence to lead might have made her querulous, she who had always led. But her sense of humor did not fail her, and her gentle charm made it such a joy to care for her that the young nuns vied for the privilege. Especially devoted to her, and especially beloved, was Mary Agnes Warde, the grandchild of her brother John, who had entered the novitiate a few months before. She had the consolation of frequent visits from Bishop Bradley, and from her faithful friend and pastor, Father McDonald. To him she said one day,. with a half-whimsical, half-~vry smile: "My long and stormy life is at last coming to an end." God's stormy petrel was content now to rest. " To her sisters in the end she had no word but love. "God bless you and love you," she would say to them in her tired voice, and add with her characteristic personal touch, "eoery one.'" On the night of September 16 even her voice failed, and on the morning of the feast of the Stigmata of .St. Francis, she died while Mass was being said for her in the convent chapel. As was to be expected, her daughters "rose up at her side and called her blessed."' The key~note of the funeral was not sadness but joy in a life lived out for God alone. No pilgrimages are made in large bands to the simple grave with its simple marble stone in St. Joseph's Cemetery in Manchester. Even the writings about her community seem to overshadow her achievements with those of her friend and foundress, Mother Catherine McAuley. That is the way Mother Xavier would have liked it. But it is more honest to see her life as an extension of Mother McAuley's. To the ten short active years that her leader gave, Mother Xavier added her fifty full and vigorous ones. Complementing each other in character and temperament, they make together one achievement in the Church of Christ, recognizing that above all the works of God is His mercy. To Teaching Sisl:ers Pope Plus XII [EDITOR'S NOTE: This apostolic exhortation to the ~rst International Congress of Teaching Sisters was given on S~ptember 13, 1951. The following English translation, except for minor changes in capitalization and punctuation, appeared in the Catholic Mind, June, 1952, pp. 376-80. The original Italian text appeared in the Acta Apostolicae 8edis, 1951, pp. 738-44.] WE particularly welcome the occasion offered by your presence at the COngress of Teaching Sisters to express Our heartfelt and paternal praise for the activities of sisters in the school and in education both in Italy and throughout the Catholic world. How could the Church have fulfilled her mission of education and charity during these last few years, especially in the immediate past, without, the aid given by hundreds of thousands of sisters with so much zeal? How otherwise could the Church fulfill her mission today? No doubt, there are many other useful and energetic women work-ing with or beside nuns or dedicating themselves to the apostolate of the laity. We have in mind especially the good Catholic women teachers in the state schools. But they must r~ot wonder if, today, We turn to you, beloved daughters, gathered around Us as repre-sentatives of the religious orders and congregations devoted to the apostolate of the school and education. May the dedication, love, and sacrifices that more often tha~ not you bear in obscurity for the love of Christ and the benefit of young people bring forth fruit a hundredfold in the future as they did in the past. May our Lord reward you and shower upon you the abundance of His divine favors. We hope all the more fervently that this may be so because with you We are aware of the crisis through which your schools and educational institutions are passing. It is a question of the youth of today and convent schools. In your congress you have doubt-lessly had the opportunity of treating this subject fully. Many points concerning you no less than priests and brothers in religious orders have already been discussed by Us in Our address of De-cember 8, 1950. For this reason, We can confine Ourselves now to those aspects of your problem which, in Our opinion, need more consideration. I. Lack of Understanding If it be your painful experience that the teaching sis~ter and the 251 POPE PIUS XII Review [or Religious mgdern girl no longer understand each other, well, this is not a thing peculiar to you. Other teachers, often parents themselves, are not in a very much better position. It is not using empty wor.ds to say that young people have changed, become very different perhaps. The chief reason for this difference'in the young people of toda~r may be that which forms the subject of the frequent lament: young peoi31e are irreverent toward many things that formerly from child-hood were naturally regarded with the greatest respect. But young people of today are not solely to be blamed for their j~resent atti-tude. In childhood, they have lived through horrible things.and they have seen many ideals formerly held in high esteem fail and fail miserably before their eyes. F.or this reason they now mistrust and reject them. It must be remembered also that this complaint about lack of understanding is not something new. It is one made in every gener-ation; o and it is mutual between maturity and youth, parents and children, teachers and pupils. Half a century ago and even a little more, there was a good deal of sentimentality. People were fond of' believing that they were "misunderstood" and said so. Today,, the complaint, not devoid of a ce,rtain amount" of pride, is more con-cerned with the intellect. The result of this misunderstanding is, on the one hand, a reaction which may sometimes exceed the limit of justice, a tendency to repudiate anything that is, or. appears to be, new, an exaggerated suspicion of rebellion against any tradition. On the other hand, it is a lack of faith that shrinks from all authority and, spurning every competent judgment, seeks solutions and coun-sels with a s6rt of infatuation more ingenuous than reasoned. To try to reform young people and convince them by exacting submission, to persuade them by force', would be useless and not always right. YoB will induce them very much better to give you their trust if you, on your side, strive to understand them and to make them understand themselves--save always in the case of those immutable truths and values which admit of no change in the heart and mind of man. Understanding young people certainly does not mean approv-ing and admitting everything they" maintain in their ideas, their tastes, their caprices, their false enthusiasm. It consists fund_amentally in finding out ~hat is solid in them and accepting this trustfully without remorse or anger, in dis'covering the origin of their deviations and errors, which are often nothing but the unhappy attempt io solve real and difficult problems, and, finally, in following closely 252 September, 1955 TO ~EACHING SISTERS the vicissitudes and conditions of the present time. Making yourself understood does not mean adopting abuses, inaccuracies, confused ideas, modern expressions ambiguous in syn-tax, or the words' themselves. It rather means expressing clearly one's own thoughts in different yet always correct ways, striving to fathom_the thoughts of others, always keeping in mind their diffi-culties, their ignorance, and their inexperience. On the other hand, it is also true that young people of today are fully capable of appreciating true and genuine values. And it is preciseIy at this point that you must assume your responsibility. You must treat young people with the same simplicity and natural-ness you show among yourselves; you must treat them according to their character. At the same time, you must all show that spiritual seriousness and reserve which even the world of today expects from you, that spiritual seriousness and reserve through which it must sense your union with God. When you are with young, people, it is not necessary to speak continually of God. But when you do so, you must speak in a way to command their attention: with genuine feeling arising from profound conviction. In this-way, you will win the confidence of your pupils who. will then allow themselves to be persuaded and guided by you. II. The Reliqious Life And now We come to that which concerns you particularly: the religious life, your habit, the vow of chastity, your rules and constitutions. Do these render you less fit or downright incapable where the instruction and education of today's young people are concerned ? In the first place, We say that those who have the (primary) right in education, the parents, are not of this opinion. Sisters' schools are still sought after and preferred even by many people who care little or nothifig for religion. In 'many countries, vocations to the life of a teaching sister and the number of sisters' schools are much below the demand. 'This does not happen through mere chance. Therefore, we may add--and not only in regard to Italy but speaking in general--from those who have a part in drawing up school legislation, we must expect that determination for justice, that democratic sense, so to speak, which corresponds to the will of the parents, in such a way that the schools founded and directed by religious institutes be not placed in a worse condition than the 253 POPE PIUS XII R~oieto ¢or Religions state schools, and that they be given the freedom which is necessary for their development. And now, let us briefly discuss the religious life in itself. The religious habit: choose it in such a way that it becomes the. expres, sion of inward naturalness, of simplicity, and spiritual modest-y. Thus it will edify everyone, even modern young people. Chastity and virginity (which imply also the inner renunciation of all sensual affection) do not estrange souls from this world. They rather awaken and develop the energies needed for wider and higher offices beyond the limits of individual families. Today there are many. teaching and nursing sisters who, in the best sense of the word, are nearer to life than the average person in the world. Followed in letter and spirit, your constitutions, too, facilitate and bring the sister all she fieeds and must do in our time to be a good teacher and educator. This also applies to purely mechanical matters. In many countries today, for example, even sisters use bicycles when their work demands it. At first this was something entirely new, though not against the Rule. It is possible that some details of the school schedules, certain regulations--simple applica-tions of the Rule-~certain customs which were, perhaps, in harmony with past conditions but which today merely hinder educational work, must be adapted to new circumstances. Let superiors and the general chapters proceed in this matter conscientiously, with foresight, pruddnce, and courage: and, where the case demands, let them not fail to submit the proposed changes to the competent ec.: clesiastical authorities. You wish to serve the cause of Jesus Christ and of His Church in the way the world of today demands. Therefore; it would not be reasonable to persist in customs and forms that hinder this service or perhaps render it impossible. Sisters who are teachers and edu-cators must be so ready and so up to the level of their office, they must be so well versed in all with which young people are in con-tact, in all which influences them, that their pupils will not hesitate to say: "We can approach the sister with our problems and difficul-ties: she understands and helps us." IlL Tile Scfiool and Education In this way, We come now to the needs of the school and educa-tion, which We particularly wish to recommend to your care. Many of your schools are being described and praised to Us as 254 September, 1955 TO TEACHING-SISTERS being very good. But not all. It is Our fervent wish that all endeavor to become excellent. This presupposes that your teaching sisters are masters of the subjects they expound. See to it, therefore, that they are well trained and that their education corresponds in quality and academic.degrees to that demanded by the state. Be generous in giving them all they need, especially where books are concerned, so that they may con-tinue. their studies and thus offer young people a rich and solid har-vest of knowledge. This is in keeping with the Catholic idea, which gratefully welcomes all that is naturally good, beautiful, and true, because it is an image of the divine goodness and beauty and truth. Most parents entrust their daughters to you because their con-sciences bid them to do so. But this does not mean that the children should suffer by receiving in your schools an education of inferior value. On the contrary, you must do all you can to assure parents that their children are getting the best education right from the elementary classes. And then, do not forget that knowledge and good teaching win the respect and consideration of the pupils for the teaching sister. Thus she can exercise a greater influence on their character and their spiritual life. In this respect, there is no need for us to repeat that which you know well, that which has certainly been the object of ample dis-cussion during your Congress. According to the Catholic concept, the object of the school and of education is the formation of the perfect Christian, that is--to apply this principle to yo.ur conditions --to exercise such spiritual and moral influence and to so accustom girls and young women that when they are left to themselves they will remain firm in their faith as Catholics and put this faith into daily practice. At least, there must be the well-founded hope that the pupil will later on lead her life according to the principles and rules of her faith. Your entire school and educational system would be useless were this object not the central point of your labor. Our Lord wants you to strive toward this aim with all your strength. He has called you to the vocation of educating girls and making them perfect Christians. In this He demands your complete dedication, and one day He will ask you to render an account. The modern girl! You can measure better than many others the still unsolved problems and the grave dangers resulting from recent 255 POPE PIUS XII changes in the woman's world from her sudden introduction into all walks of public life. Was there ever such a time as the present, when a girl has to be won and trained interiorly, according to her con-victions and will, for Christ's cause and a virtuous life, remaining faithful to both despite all temptations and obstacles, beginning with modesty in dress anal ending with the most serious and anguishing problems of life? Let it never happen th'at material advantages, personal authority, wealtb, political power, or similar considerations induce you to re-nounce your educational ideals and betray your vocation! An ex-amination of conscience during your Congress may have salutary ef-fects. This paternal exhortation is motivated solely by Our benevo-lence for you, because your cares are Ours also, your Bappy success is Ours, too. In obtaining favorable results, harmony and generous accord between the different religious families can play a big part. Mutual knowledge and enco,uragement, holy emulation can be put to your mutual advantage. The most encouraging steps have already been taken in this respect. All you have to do is to continue them. Like Christian education in general, which today is not an oh-' jective easily to be achieved, your mission is not an easy one. But regarding the inner formation of the young girl, your religious vocation is a powerful ally. Living faith, union with God, the love o]~ Christ, with which each of you has had the chance to fill herself in the spirit of the congregation from the first day of the novitiate, the vow, not only of chastity, but especially that of obedience, a common task under one guidance in the same direction'---all these t, hings act strongly on young minds, always supposing, of course, that you live up to your vocation. May divine Providence direct and lead you in all that you pro-pose and undertake. May the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ fill your minds and hearts. May the Blessed Virgin, Mary our Mother, be your model, protectress, and advocate. Together with the ex-pression of these wishes, We most cordially impart Our Apostolic Blessing to you, beloved sisters, and to all the young people en-trusted to your care. 256 The Dedica :ed Lit:e and Secular Insti :u :es Francis N. Korth, S.J. THE BREVOORT HOTEL in Chicago's busy downtown Loop "was the scene of a recent, inspiring two-day conference on "The Dedicated Life in the World and Secular Institutes." The dates were February 19 and 20, 1955. ("Dedicated life in the world" as distinguished from membership in a secular institute means that the individual is living in the world and has truly,dedi-cated his life at least by a private perpetual vow or promise of per-fect cbastlty or celibacy.) Conference participants, those who came to impart information and to lead discussions, a~ well as those who came pri'marily to listen, to gain knowledge and inspiration--these various people came from points along .both coasts, from the south and from the north and from places in between, and from Canada. For purposes of concentrated effort, the number invited was .ke.p.t small. Some twenty-five priests and about seventy lay persons (mostly women) were on hand for the openifig session on Saturday morning, February 19. Father Joseph E. Haley, C.S.C., of Notre Dame University, welcomed the group and then gave a very con-densed historical r~sum~ of general trends in a dedicated life through-out the centuries up to present-day secular institutes. Then a number of reports were made about organizations that actually are secular in.stitutes, abou't some that are developing along the lines of possibly becoming secular institutes, and about other groups that are interested in a special manner in a dedicated life in the world. Some highlights follow. Opus De[ has been blessed with American vocations; another house will. be opened; besides persons in professional fields, clerical workers, farmers, and others are being accepted. The Missionaries of the Kingship of Christ, though small in number in this country, have experienced a gratifying increase in vocations. The Schoenstatt Sisters of Mary of the Catholic Apostolate have intern and extern members in the United States; they give lectures, publish some no-vena booklets and pamphlets; a booklet entitled Euergdag 8anctitg is;to be released soon. The constitutions of tl~e Daughters of St. Catherine of Siena are in Rome awaiting approval; the American 257 FRANCIS N. KORTH Reoiew for Religious novitiate is currently ~in Montreal, Canada; most members are be-tween the ages of twenty-one and forty-five, are single or widows. A little leaflet of the Pro Deo Workers of Cincinnati mentions that they are engaged in various works of the apostolate, that they have no official status as yet. The Daughters of Our Lady of Fatima in Lansdowne, Pa., as their attractive leaflet Spiritual "Scrabble" tells us, stimulate interest in, and take part in, varied parish activities, such as census-taking, instructing converts, visiting the sick, bus driving, church music and art. A new companion-group, the Sons of Our Lady of Fatima, ~is beginning to function along similar lines. A small but active group in New Orleans, known as Caritas, has as its purpose to help develop Christian life in parishes, particularly in poor ones; summer camps and long weekends are especially devoted to helping young people; liturgy and arts are stressed to cultivate an appreciation of the real beauty in things; parish census work is be-ing done. To work in missionary lands and to stir up interest in the mis-sions elsewhere is the special purpose of the International Catholic Auxiliaries (women); membership is about two hundred with fif-teen nationalities represented; the group was founded in Belgium about twenty years ago and now has two centers in Chicago. The Rural Parish Workers of Christ the King, while still small in num-bers, are doing fine work in a poor rural district in eastern Missouri. In Canada the Oblate Missionaries of the Immaculate (women), founded about three years ago, already have over three hundred members; there is a recent foundation in Chile, and some members are also in this country (at Lowell, Massachusetts) ; they undertake whatever work the local ordinary desires; nurses, teachers, social workers are among their numbers. From New York word comes that the Campaigners for Christ are busily engaged in explaining the faith (on street corners and in other places) and in h~lping the poor. The Union Caritas Christi, founded in France, has s~read to several other countries, and now-has some members in New York City; the members (women) come from various walks in life; their specific work in helping souls is determined by talent and circumstances. The house in Chicago of the Work of the Sacred Heart is connected with an organization established in the archdiocese of Lucca, Italy; devotion to the Sacred Heart is stressed; Italian immigrants are helped. In New Jeisey a parish group is forming, based upon the spirituality of St. Francis' de Sales; various apostolic activities are 258 September, 1955 SECULAR INSTITUTES undertaken. A member of the Company of St. Paul is currently par-ticipating in the apostolate of Christian art and movies. Friendship House in Canada undertakes varied work in the field of the social apostolate as indicated by the hierarchy. So much for the brief re-ports. " Of the above groups the following five are secular institutes: Opus Dei, the Missionaries of the Kingship of Christ, the Scboen-start Sisters of Mary of the Catholic Apostolate, the Company of St. Paul, and the Union Caritas Christi. The first four are insti-tutes of pontifical right (Schoenstatt Sisters are not listed in current Annuario Ponti[icio) : the fifth is an institute of diocesan right. The first session of Saturday afternoon was devoted to an en-lightening and stimulating presentation of the "Requisites for the Dedicated Life in the World and for ,Approval of Secular Institutes." The speaker was Father Andr~ L. Guay, O.M.I., Director of the Catholic Centre at the University of Ottawa in Canada. During the question period that followed, Father Guay solved problems and difficulties in competent fashion. The second session that afternoon was given over t'o a panel of three speakers. The three panel mem-bers, in the order of their appearance, and their topics were: Miss Bertha Mugrauer of Caritas in New Orleans and professor of soci-ology at Xavier University in the same city--"Social Action in American Life"; Mr. Vincent Giese of Fides Publishers in Chicago --"Professional Apostolate": Miss Violet Nevile of the Interna-tional Catholic Auxiliaries in Chicago--"Foreign Missions." After the three interesting papers were given, the audience had an opportu-nity to direct comment or questions to any of the three speakers. Saturday evening a number of optional workshops were held; lively discussions made the time pass quickly. At ten o'clock Sunday morning, two-minute reports were given on each of the workshops held the previous evening. Then Father Francis :Wendell, O:P., of New York spoke in an inspiring manner on "The Spirituality of the Dedicated Apostle in the World." Dis-cussion followed. The closing session in the early afternoon treated the general theme of "Channels of the Dedicated Life in' the World." The breakdown of this general theme resulted in three informative papers: "The Parish as the Living Community of Worship and Apostolate," ably presented by Father Robert Carroll of Chicago; the fine treatment of "The Third Order Secular as a School of Christian Perfection" by Father Stephen Hartdegen, O.F.M. of 259 FRANCIS N. KORTH Washington, D.C.; and a capable discussion by Mr. David O'Shea of YCW Headquarters in Chicago of "The Lay Apostolate Giving Christ to the World." Everyone privileged to attend felt that the two days had been time spent very well indeed. Currently, regional conferences are being stressed. Other Items of Interest about Secular Institutes 1) Father Leo Neudecker, pastor of the Immaculate Conception parish in Kellogg, Minnesota (35 miles northeast ofRochester) held his sixth annual Lay Apostolate Week, July 3-9, at Kellogg. Father Nicholas Maestrini, a former Chinese missionary of twenty years ex-perience, was guest speaker. A gratifying number of young women, many of them nurses or teachers, attended. The Lay Apostolate Week is a week of prayer and instruction; much time is given to the study of secular institutes; each day centers around the liturgy. 2) The Union of Catechists of the Holy Crucifix and of Mary Im-maculate is a secular institute affiliated with the Brothers of the Christiar~ Schools. Its headquarters are in Turin., Italy, where it was established as a secular institute ot~ diocesan right on June 24, 1948. Members teach catechism and spread devotion to the Five Wounds of Jesus Crucified. The lay catechists (members) 'live either with their own families or in community "houses of charity;" 3) The Annuario Pontit~cio for 1955 lists the following eleven secular institutes of pontifical right. Four for men (pages 863-64) : Company of St. Paul (originated in Italy) ; Opus Dei (originated in Spain); the Priest Workers of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (Spain); and the Society of the Heart of Jesus (Fraiice). For women seven such secular institutes are gi;cen (page 1283) : the Daughters of the Queen of the Apostles (Trent); the Teresian Institute (Madrid); the Missionaries of the Kingship of Our Lord Jesus Christ (Milan) ; the Institute of Our Lady of Work (Paris) ; the Women's Section of Opus Dei (Madrid) ; the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary of the Way (Vienna); and the Missionaries of the Sick (Cremona). The last two institutes just mentioned for women were added to the list in the 1954 edition of the Annuario Pontit~cio; no new ones are listed in the 1955 edition. Of the institutes of pontifical right for men, no new ones have been .listed in either the 1954 or 1955 edi-~ tions of the Annuario. 26O A Ra!:ional Approach !:o Int:ellec!:ual Obedience Augustine G. Ellard, S.3. INTELLECTUAL obedience seems to be a perpetual thorn in the side of many good religious people. They are constantly being urged to practice it: they feel that they should; they keep on try-ing to achieve that aim; but~also they are always failing and hence experiencing dissatisfaction. Upon reflection they notice that their difficulties are not only practical and ~motional, as with most other arduous virtues, 'but also conceptual. They hav~ not succeeded in working out a satisfactory concept of the ideal itself of intellectual obedience. We migh't consider three cases. First, let us suppose that Father Provincial directs Father Rector to proceed to the erection of a new building for the instituti6n that he is in charge of: Father Rector sees the desirability of it; the money is available; every consideration appears to be in favor of going on with the project; and so, easily enough, he agrees in judgment with his superior. Thus far there is no difficult.y. The propriety of the step prop6sed is obvious to both men. Imagine another situation. Brother Infirmarian is told by Father Superior, whose excellence does not extend to a knowledge of nurs-ing, to do this or that for a sick brother whose condition, in Brother Infirmarian's view, calls for just the contrary. Respectfully he re-monstrates with Father, but to no avail. Father persists in his order. Brother Infirmarian reconsiders the whole matter and in particular weighs all that he can think of from Father's point of view. But the more he reflects, the more firmly he feels convinced that his first judg-ment was right. It is evident from the principles of good nursing that the patient should not be treated in the way that Father wishes. Brother comes to the conclusion that Father, however admirable and wise in general, is wrong in this matter. Nobody would quarrel with him. Those who most advocate obedience of judgment allow an inferior to consider an order ill-advised when it is quite evidently imprudent. ' Consider a third case. Father Rector instructs'Father Subject to found, say, a retreat house on,the south side of a large city. Father Subject's opinion is that the appropriate place is the north side. With 261 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Reoiew for Religious due deference he explains his reasons to Father Superior. He does whatever he can within the limits of propriety to persuade Father Rector to agree with him. But he fails. Let us suppose that the judgments of each of the two men are not categorical and absolute, but take the form of more probable pronouncements. Now Father Subject is an obedient man; and, mindful of all the admonitions to think with one's appointed guide, he carefully reconsiders the whole question, from all angleS, utilizing every source of information, and duly allowing for all known contingencies. At last he concludes that, if he is to be honest with the truth as it presents itself to him and to his own intelligence, he must abide by his previous judgment. Here, therefore, we have an instance in which there is no perfectly clear right or wrong, but room for legitimate difference of opinion. The two men take contrary views of the likely place for the retreat house. What seems more likely to the one man seems less likely to the other. This is the typical situation in which in the mind of one trying to practice ideal obedience painful conflict can arise. Should Father Subject, disregarding his own insights, by fiat of his will, as-sert to himself, "After all, conditions seem to suggest that, as Father Rector thinks, the house should be on the south side"? This pro-cedure, judging not in ac~cordance with what seems to be the truth, but by a chqice of the will, is just what much that is written on in-tellectual obedience appears to call for. It is submitted that a more rational approach to the problem of obedience of the mind is to conceive it as the disposition to see and acknouJledge the truth in as much as it is fauo.rable to the superior or his command. One might add--though surely this should be ob-vious and taken for granted--"and in so far as it is knowable to the subject". A subject cannot reasonably argue for less. It is, of course, true that practically and emotionally there may be the most vehe-ment objections to seeing the truth as it favors, say, a very unwel-come order. But rationally, without contradicting oneself, one can-not plead against the truth. To kno~; and possess the truth is in accordance with our nature as intelligent beings, becomes it, and in fact pertains to its essential development and perfection. It is par-ticularly fitting that we come to know and acknowledge the truths that are relevant to us. Evidently such are the truths that we'are referring to: those that concern one's superior and his directions for oneself. Thus, very obviously, it is only right and reasonable thal: ~a man should see and acknowledge whatever is true in the matter of. one's own authoritative guide and his guidance for us. It may be 262 September, 1955 INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE practical too. A soldier whose trust in his captain does not measure up to the truth available to him might ~ell lose his life, and the same could happen to a patient with respect to his doctor. On the other hand, superiors cannot ask for more. To affirm more would be tantamount to uttering a falsehood or at least to be-ing presumptuous, affirming what we do not know. Nor can those who 'give us spiritual conferences and exhortations urge us to do more. One may object that we should conclude that what has been commanded has been well commanded. We could learn truth from the command itself. To a certain but very variable extent this con-tention is correct. Those chosen to exercise authority are wont to be persons of more than average ability, judgment, and good character. Superiors have a better knowledge of the total situation in which the order has been given and is to be executed. Often enough they have secret or" confidential information that is not available to the subject. These and possibly other reasons can very often justify one in argu-ing that what was ordered was wisely ordered. Almost always they have some evidential value and thus increase the probabilities in the superior's favor. The obedient man will do his best to see and ap-preciate their full force. But those indications do not simply and necessarily lead to the conclusion that the superior's command was well advised. Nobody, as far as I know, goes so" far as to maintain expressly that they do; oftentimes, however, that seems to be implied or suggested. No one would dare say that superiors are infallible and never make mistakes. The utterances and warnings of higher super-iors exist in abundance to prove the contrary for lower superiors, and the verdicts of historians for the errors of higher superiors. Everybody knows that human beings have a strong tendency to judge rather in accordance with their emotions, their likes and dis-likes, their prejudices and passions, than in the cool light of reason. This unfortunate propensity is. an excellent example of emotional thinking, of letting one's judgments be guided by feeling or im-pulse instead of the evidence. This weakness of human nature con-stantly runs counter to obedience. Hence one who is striving to be-come a perf.ectly obedient man will of course have these facts in mind and allow for them. He will do his best to keep his judgment as obj/ctive and correct as possible. One of his supreme aims will be precisely to hold reason and genuine love for the truth dominant in all his judging and willing. In very many daily practical matters the best judgments that ate humanly possible are probable rather than certain. Hence a .disagree- 263 AUGUSTINE G. ELLARD Review for Religious merit between a superior' and an inferior in such cases would natur-ally .take the form of "more probable" versus "less probable"; that is, what seems more probable to the superior seems less probable to the inferior and conversely. Thus Father Rector in our third ex-ample, decided, As I see things, we ought to build that retreat house on the south side of the city; and Father Subject, who was commis~ sioned to do it, thought, No; my opinion is that the north side is the place for it. The important point to notice here is that probable judgments, carefully made, are true and unchangeable, though of course not in the same way or so simply as' certain judgments. When "carefully made" they correspond to the incomplete evidence or reasons for judging insofar as these are open to the person forming his opinion at the time. Let me illustrate from what I shall call analogies rather than examples. Suppose that six men out of ten are to be chosen by lot for some dangerous mission. Then the odds are six to four that any particular one of the ten will be taken. No act of anybody's will can alter that likelihood. Only a fool would try to think otherwise; and, if he did, he would be virtually lying to" himself. Suppose another case, less precise and closer to what occurs in practical matters. One bears that a friend is very seriously ill with pneumonia and spontaneously concludes .that perhaps he will die. But that would be very much against his wishes, and so voluntarily he chooses to judge, because after all it is not evident that the patient will die, He will not die. Such thinking would be irrational and self-deceptive~ Thus probable judgments critically and considerately made cannot reasonably be changed by mere fiat of the will. Only some new disclosure of the truth or a better grasp of it justifies a new conclusion. One might as well determine the truth in matters of fact by flipping a coin. He who judges what he pleases is ~ollowing a blind faculty. Hence~ if all things considered, it seems that a giyen order is less probably the prudent one, no juggling of one's mind by one's will can make it really more probable. A person whose ideal of intellectual obedience is to agree with the mind of his superior insofar as his perception of the truth permits will avoid many of the difficulties experienced by those who attempt by sheer force of will to embrace the opinion of their superior. He need no( feel conscious of being disloyal to th~ truth. He will not try to argue with himself that whatever is ordered is wisely ordered. He will not cultivate "wishful thinking," determining what is judged true by an act of will. He can fall back upon the universal criterion of truth, namely, the objective evidence in the case. His 264 September, 1955 INTELLECTUAL OBEDIENCE judgments, certain or probable, will corr.espond exactly to that evi-dence. He will not appear obliged to do violence to his rational na-ture. He will not endeavor, as it were, to lie to himself, affirming to be true what is really against his mind. He will not have to change his principles when he gets a new superior. Some may object that St. Ignatius, in his celebrated Epistle on Obedience, seems to require~more in the way of intellectual submis-sion than is here proposed. At first sight and according to the strict letter of the text, that is correct. However, in interpreting him, we can and should be guided by a.principle that he himself uses in the Spiritual Exercises. When be presents for contemplation an appari-tion of Christ that is not recorded in the Gospels, namely, the very first one, made to the Virgin Mary, he writes, "Scripture supposes that we have understanding, as it is written, 'Are you also without understanding?' " (Puhl's translation, No. 299). What he says on obedience is to be understood, in accordance with the fundamental laws of reason. Therefgre, if one looks to the ultimate mind and in-tention- of the author .rather than to the precise form of his words, one would hardly interpret him as exhorting people, to go beyond the truth or beyond what they know of the truth. Beyond the truth there is nothing but falsehood, and to assert, even to oneself, more than one knows of the truth is at best to be presumptuous. Hence St. Ignatius's wqrds cannot rightly be taken to mean more than that to be perfect in obedience of judgment is wholeheartedly to acknow-ledge all the truth that favors the superior or his command. "All the truth" includes every truth that is relevant, though that relevance be very indirect or remote. The abnegation of judgment which St. Ignatius advocates in matters of obedience consists, not in affirming what is false or unknown, but in so controlling one's likes and dislikes that they will help, rather than hinder, in bringing about the maximum amount of truth in one's mind. As St. Paul wrote long ago to the Corinthians: "For we cannot do anything against the truth, but everything must be for the truth" (II Cor. 12 : 8 ; Spencer's version). It was St. Ignatius's idea that through intellectual obedience we should come to ever greater and greater harmony with the supreme rule of every good jffdgment and will, that is, with the eternal Goodness and Wisdom. The more thorough-going that harmony between our minds now and God's, the keener .and more beatific will be our vision of Infinite Truth in heaven. ¯ 265 ommun cat: ons [NOTE: Since the following communications were unavoidably held over for a long time, it seems necessary to say a word about their background. The first refers to an article by Father Gallen in our May, 1954, number. One of the main points in this article was to stress the need of reducing the frequently excessive number of community devotions. Another important point made in Father Gallen's article was that retreats do not produce the fruit they should because proper provision is not made for th~ retreatants to meditate: they simply listen to conferences. A follow-up on this was a letter from a sister, punished in September, 1954, which suggested: "If these points are to retain their purpose of preparation for mental pra~jer, twenty minutes or half an hour would not seem to be an unreasonable limit, with the explicit injunction that the retreatants continue the meditation themselves, al-though not necessarily remaining in the chapel to do so." The second communi-cation given here refers to this suggestion. --ED.] Reverend Fathers: At our summer school were different orders of sisters. Father Gallen's article, "Pray Reasonably," was much discussed and appre-ciated- and it did much good. In our case, for example, many of the novenas, daily litanies, and extra devotions have been shortened or eliminated. Part of our class preparation formerly had been used for these extras, and added to this were cooking, washing, house cleanin'g, etc. It was a real strain to get a quantity of prayers said. All agree that at last they get satisfaction from saying a reasonable number of prayers well and with real devotion. Many thanks to Father GaIlen. A number of sisters have expressed the wish that he would give them an article, "Dress Reasonably." -~A SISTER. Reverend Fathers: I disagree with the sister who wrote that "twenty minutes or half an hour would not seem to be an unreasonable limit" for points during retreat. I made. one retreat in whi[h the priest never talked over twenty minutes, and I was so weary I thought I would die be-fore the eight days were over. What in the world does the sister do with the time between the conferences if she isn't meditating then? Personally, I like the priest to talk about forty minutes or so. -~ SISTER. OUR CONTRIBUTORS AUGUSTINE ELLARD and FRANCIS N. KORTH are members of our editorial board. SISTER MARY JULIAN BAIRD, of the Scranton Province of the Sisters of Mercy of the Union, is in the English Department of Mount Aloy-sius Junior College, Cresson, Pa. 266 [All material for this department should be addressed to: Book Review Editor, REVIEW FOR RELIGIOUS, West Baden College, West Baden Springs, Indiana.] THI: PSALMS IN RHYTHMIC PROSI:. Translafed by dames A. Klels÷, S.d., Ph.D., and Thomas d. kynam, S.J. Pp. 236. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee I, Wis. 1954. $4.00. No one whose eye falls upon this new translation of the Psalms will be otherwise than favorably impressed by the attractive binding, the legible typography, the useful index of "titles,': the preliminary outlines for each Psalm, and the brief explanatory footnotes. But some will ask a legitimate question: Why another trans-lation of the Psalms? Father Lynam answers that question quite clearly in his preface. The translation was projected as a labor of love by the. late Father Kleist, who asked Father Lynam's coopera-tion. The translators set for themselves a comparatively simple aim: to turn the Psalms of the new authorized Latin version into English prose, making "a borrowing from poetry" to the extent of intro-ducing into the prose "a stress, a rhythm." The basic stress ulti-mately chosen was the iambic. Granted the legitimacy of such a purpose, the success of the translation can be justly measured only by the standard that the translators have set for themselves. There can be no doubt that they have succeeded in producing a consistently rhythmic version, predominantly iambic. That they have in many instances tran-scended their self-imposed limits and achieved true poetry is all to the good. One has only praise, too, for the fact that the English is modern in many respects. The consistent substitution of "You" for the traditional "Thou" is a simple but notably.effective device that makes not only for modernity but for the impression of that familiarity with God that characterizes prayer. The only respect in which the translators seem to have fallen below their own stan-dards is that they have occasionally allowed themselves to be forced into violent inversions in their attempt to preserve the iambic stress. One may be tempted to quarrel with such expressions as "mob-bish turbulence," 'heaven's marge," "lave his feet in sinners' gore," "in their joy they jubilate," "Immersed I am in abysmal mire," "As 'twere a prodigy I have appeared to many," "A subject of dispute you made us 'mongst our neighbors," "Well for the people skilled in holding jubilee," "My sire are you, my God, the bedrock of my 267 BOOK REVIEWS Retqew ,/:or Religious weal." The phraseology, of this sampling is not the phraseology of m6d~rn"prose. (Nor, one m~ay add, of modern poetry.) One would not complain of such archaism if it were not for the fact that the publishers' jacket makes claims for the modernity~ of the Kleist- Lynam version that the translators do not make. Despite such occasional infelicities of expression. (fewer and less annoying than thos~ that are to be found in the ordinary man-ual of devotions), The Psalms in Rhythmic Prose will serve as a fine prayer-book for the layman who would model his prayer upon the official prayer of the Church. It will also be a welcome companion volume to the Latin Breviary of the English-speaking priest or re-ligious.-- PATRICK J. RICE, S.J. MARIOLOGY. Volume I. Edi÷ed by Juniper B. Carol, O.F.M. Pp. 434. The Bruce Publishing Company, Milwaukee I, Wis. '1954. $6.75. This book could hardly have been written by one man. For the sweep and depth of treatment of the whole field of Mariology could have been achieved with the excellence of scholarship con-tained in this book only by a group of scholars working under an editor with the thorough-going competence and courage of a Father Juniper Carol. We have in Mariolog~/ the first of a three-volu'me series which will take its place alongside, the Marian symposia of Strater, du Manoir, and Roschini. : Mariology is that part of theology which attempts to ~ain some. understanding of the Marian mysteries. But this understanding must take place by insight into the data of revelation as given in its two-fold source: Scripture and tradition. This first volume of Mariology consists in a culling of Scripture and the various records of the Church's tradition in a search for all the relevant Marian evidence. The ~econd volume in the series will contain a grgup of essays deal-ing with Marian theology as such; the third will trace the effect. of Marian creed and cult in the devotional life of the Church. The opening article by Eamon R. Carroll, O.Carm., has com-pressed within fifty pages an extraordinarily rich selection of the Church's pronouncements on Mary, organ, ized under~ eight titles: Mother of God, Ever Virgin, Full of Grace, Immaculate, Assumed into Heaven, Mediatrix with the Mediator, Spiritual Mother, and Queen. Fathers Erk May, O.F.M., and M. J. Gruenthaner, S.J., turn to the pages of the Old and New Testaments respectively to present what God has written about His Mother. Both of these studies are 268 September, 1955" BOOK REVIEW8 characterized by a care and a balance not always present in a dis-cussion of Marian Scriptural texts. The article by A. C. Rush, C.SS.R., supplements these two scriptural studies by reviewing the testimonies of the early Christian faithful for Mary as found in the New Testament apochryphal writings. Three articles follow which open up the vast and complex records of patristic and liturgical literature on Mary: Mary in Western patristic thpught and in the Eastern and Western liturgies. The article by Father Burghardt on the Latin Fathers is not only an outstanding piece of research in its thoroughness of treatment and brilliance of interpretation, but also in its tight organization and excellence of style. G. W. Shea has continued the investigation of the history of Mariology through the medieval, modern, and contemporary periods. He shows how active the writers of the Church have been since the close of the Patristic Age in deepening and expanding our under-standing of the Marian mysteries. Because the long article on the Mariology of the Eastern Fathers was not available in time for publication in this first volume, its place has been given to two shorter Mariological studies of the Im-maculate Conception and Mary's immunity from actual sin, which, in content, rightly belong in the forthcoming second volume. But if these two studies are an indication of the quality of the second volume, we can be sure that it will attain the high standards "of scholarship and readability achieved in the first. The book closes with a short history of the name of Mary by R. Kugelman, C.P., who concludes that the weight of evidence seems to favor the meaning of the name Mary as "Highness" or "Exalted One." The book with its copious notes and references is a mine of information on our Lad;, which priests, religious, theological stu-dents, and educated Catholic laymen will be tapping for a good many decades to come. --MICHAEL MONTAGUE, S.J. A HISTORY OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH. Volume VII. Period of ÷he French Revolu÷ion (1775-1823). By Fernand Mourre÷, S.S~ Trans-lated by Newton Thompson, S.T.D. Pp. 608. B. Herder Book Com-pany, St. Louis 2, Mo. 1954. $9.75. The average American looks upon the French Revolution merely as a Gallican edition of the American fight for independence, In the political sense this opinion comes close to the truth, for as the 269 BOOK REVIEWS Review for Religious, colonial patriots threw off the rule of George III, so the French lib-erals and rationalists overturned and then completely ~estroyed the monarchy of Louis XVI. The French Revolution, however, dif-fered greatly from that in America ii~ its organized hatred of re-ligion, especially that of the Catholic Church. The seventh volume of Father Mourret's fine work on the His-tory of the Catholic Church gives a scholarly, treatment to this phase of the French Revolution. The book is divided into three parts. In order to give his reader a better understanding of the ecclesi-astical side of the Revolution,, Father 1VIourret.treats, under the title "Decline of the Ancient Regime," the political, social and intellectual status of France and of Europe from 177,5 until the beginning of the Revolution. Part two deals with the Revolution itself. This section of the .book is the most scholar!y of the three and descends to minute par-ticulars. A general knowledge of the political history of the French Revolution is a "must" if the reader is to understand the various sessions of the French assembly that methodically did away with religion in France and deified "reason" to take the place of God. The Civil Constitution of the Clergy is completely discussed, and the plight of the. jurors and non-jurors among the clergy is well de-scribed. Father Mourret has used his documents well in picturing the suffering and complete disruption of ecclesiastical life in France. For the ordinary reader the third section of the book, "~Fhe Religigus Restoration," will prove the most understandable and interesting. Napoleon and Plus VII wire both powerful characters. Their duel of wit, will power, and principle is boldly and graphically told. The entire history of the famous Concordat of 1801'is clearly explained. An appendix has the entire text of the concordat. Father Thompson has done a fine job of translating. The foot-notes are excellent; the bibliography is extensive and should help the research student. There is also a fine index that will save the interested seeker much time. The book is primarily for the scholar~ but the third part can be profitably used by anyone who has a high school knowledge of French history. Although the price is rather high, this book could profitably b'e put in the Church History sec-tion of any seminary or college library.-~JOHN W. CHRISTIAN, S.J. SAINT IGNATIUS' :IDEA OF A JESUIT UNIVERSITY. By George E. Ganss, S.J. Pp. 368. Marqueffe Universify Press, Milwaukee 3, Wis. Ss.so. With a ~hrewd eye to modern university problems and applica~ 270 September, 1933 BOOK REVIEWS tions, Father Ganss, director of Classical La.nguages at Marquette Universityl has written a brave historical analysis of St. Ignatius Loyola's root principles of higher education. Analyzing Ignatius' view of Renaissance university, its functional relation to the social-cultural environment, and Part Four of the Jesuit Const"lt "u t"~on (On Education), Father Ganss outlines the purposes, ideals, and pro-cedures of Ignatian higher education--at least as had in the sixteenth and seventeenth century. The burden of the work is, bo~vever, to isolate perennial principles from passing procedures in the historical picture of Ignatius' universities. Besides terminology clarifications (e.g. the sixteenth-century meaning of college, arts, uni~ersit~l, etc., contrasted with our own) there seem to be three difficulties in a work of this kind. St. Ignatius himself, the master of adaptation to circumstance, presents a problem to one siftirig his educational writings for their spirit. One could get the impression from uncareful reading that there simply ar3 no real guiding principles beyond that of a clear goal and absolute freedom of means in attaining it. Again, the social-economic environment for which the early Jesuit educators were preparing their students presents the second problem. Time after time Father Ganss separates what is rooted in the Ignatiar~ spirit from what pertains to the Ignatian times. Thus speaking, reading, and writing Latin might seem an educational must in the Constitutions, but this prescription is cIarified by the realization that Latin was still the exclusive language of the universities and "opened the way to the choicest positions in state or' commerce or Church." Thirdly, the Constitution itself, admittedly the foremost source for Father Ganss, contains much practical procedure that must be sifted to find the primary principles of the~ Ignatian educational spirit. Beginning then with a historical study of the universities as Ignatius saw them in l~is own education, and progressing through the gradual acceptance of colleges and universities by the Society of Jesus, Father Ganss sbow~ how ignatius drew up his principles .of an orderly development in learning, following the self-activity prac-tices of the Un, iversity of Paris and substituting the Summa Theolo-giae for the Sentences of Peter Lombard as the prime text for study-ing theology. In the second part the author points up the relation between Ignatius' universities and the socio-cultural life of the times. The humanist educational ideal which was then reaching its peak was inculcated by Ignatius and applied to the natural and super- 271 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS Reoiew t:or Religiod~ natural life aims of his education. He insisted, however, on £eeping theology and philosophy as the most ~important branches of study. In Chapter nine of the third part of his book, Father Gauss sums up fifteen clear principles of Ignatian education. In this chapter he has gi~ven modern Jesuits, especially American Jesuits, the structure on which to build the methods and adaptations for our universities today while preserving what is truly the Jesuit spirit of education. Any review of this thorough and scholarly book would be in-complete without mention of the Appendix called "A Historical Sketch of the Teaching of Latin." This brief study of the use of the Latin Language as a means of education is well worth the price of the entire book. He clearly shows how the history of Latin in education has undergone a change in aim from the Renaissance (fa-cility in reading, speaking, and writing for cultural, social, and economic life-preparedness), through that of John Locke and Chris-tian Wolf (mind-training and some contact with classical thought), down to the present practical abandonment of the language in favor of a fuller study of classical literature in the vernacular. Father Gauss has written a challenging and controversial book that certainly will be most helpful in the discussions and planning of modern Catholic education.--RAYMOND J. SCHNEIDER, S.J. BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS BEAUCHESNE ET SES FILS, Rue de Rennes, 117, Paris. Le Ciet ou l'Enfer, I, Le Ciet. Par le Chanoine Georges Panneton. How little most religious know about heaven where they firmly hope to be happy for all eternity! But then heaven is not a subject about which many books have been written. Readers of French therefore owe a debt of gratitude to Canon Panneton for his excel-lent treatment of this much neglected subjedt. His book covers the subject most thoroughly, and is based on sound theology. Learned and unlearned alike will read this book with pleasure and profit. Pp. 253. ¯ THE BRUCE PI.)BLISHING COMPANY, Milwaukee 1, Wis. Jesus, 8on of Daoid. By Mother Mary Eleanor, S.H.C.J. To meditate on an incident in the life of our Lord, we are told to imagine that we are present as the incident unfolds. If this has been difficult for you, you must read Jesus, 8on of Daoid, and learn how a person blessed with a vivid imagination carries out this ad- 272 September, 1955 BOOK ANNOUNCEMENTS ~¢ice. You will find the bbok very easy to read, and it should make your meditations on the life of our Lord much more vivid. The book also serves as an excellent introduction to the life of our Lord for the young and for those who find it difficult to profit from the learned biographies ~ of Jesus. Pp. 224. $3.25. Bloody Mary. By Theodore Maynard. Lest the reader be mis- -led, the author points out in his very first paragraph that he uses the title ironically. He also insists, and with truth, that his book is in no sense "special pleading," but an objective study of °the available historical documents. He is an inveterate scholar and de-lights in communicating his findings to others as his more than thirty books testify. If you are interested in Tudor England, you must read Bloody Mary. Pp. 297. $4.95. CLONMORE AND REYNOLDS, LTD., 29 Kildare St. Dublin. Meditations for Priests, Seminarians, and Religious. Compiled by Dominic Phillips, C.M. This book of meditations was designed to help those beginning mental prayer. There is a twenty-two page introduction that deals with the excellence and necessity of mental prayer, gives detailed instruction on mental prayer according to the method of St. Francis de Sales, and gives advice about the ordinary difficulties encountered in meditation. All the meditations are of uniform length, a page for each meditation, and follow a uniform pattern. The book should prove helpful not only to beginners but also to those more advanced. Pp. 456. 25/-. LA EDITORIAL CATOLICA, S.A., Biblioteca de Autores Cristianos, Apartado 466, Madrid. Ciencia Moderna y Fitosofia. Introduction Fisicoquimica ~t Mathematica. Pot Jose M. Riaza, S.J. In every major seminary certain courses called Quaestiones Scientigcae, wh
